


Constellation in the Sky (My star to hold)

by CeiloDiLiberta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Dreamers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Headcanon, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise, Ill tag more as the come up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Lucius has his moments, Major Original Character(s), Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Good Parent, Pairings undecided, Patronus, Somewhat canon complicant, The storys better than the summary, Torture, alternative universe, crazed!lucius, hes not good, patronuses are different for Dreamers than other Magi, playing fast and loose with canon, rating went up because of recent chapte, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeiloDiLiberta/pseuds/CeiloDiLiberta
Summary: Narcissa will not let her son be a pawn for a madman's war. She knew from the day that he was born that she would do anything that she needed to to protect him. If that means going against everything that she has ever been taught then so be it. Her little light will not be consumed by the darkness.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Lucius Malfoy & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 27
Kudos: 90





	1. To bear a Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So if you read my other stories then you're probably wondering why I'm starting a new story instead of updating my other ones. I honestly have nothing to say about that other than I got inspiration for this story and just ran with it.
> 
> This work is unbeta'd so if there's any mistakes let me know.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!

Narcissa considers herself one of the lucky ones. There are many of the sacred 28 that are married off without a thought or care to the happiness of either parties, but she and Lucius meet during their years at Hogwarts, both top of their year Slytherins. She and Lucius fell in love during those years, and when her mother told her she was to be married, she resigned herself to leave Lucius and marry whomever her mother had chosen for her, it was her duty after all. But when Lord Malfoy and Lucius swept into the room she could hardly believe her eyes. 

She got to marry the man that she loved, so yeah, she considers herself one of the lucky few indeed. 

Marrying Lucius was the second greatest joy in her life.

The first came nine months after they married.

Narcissa held her son in her arms, his face soft with sleep as they both rested in the room that the Mediwizard’s had assigned to her. A small tuft of hair, so blonde that it was nearly white, lay atop of her newborns head. 

Looking at his face, chubby and pure, Narcissa thinks that she has been handed the greatest gift in the world. Her own little angel rest in her arms, and she knows without a doubt that she would do anything for him,

Lucius’ face is red when he arrives, out of breath and distressed. His eyes are wild as he searches for her and their child. She smiles at him when his eyes meet her own, watches as his entire being softens upon the sight of her and melts further when he notices the buddle cradled in her arms. 

He sweeps into the room silently, eyes trained on the child within her arms. When he makes it to her bedside, he gives her a sheepish smile as an apology for missing their son's birth. 

She only huffs slightly, tilting her head up for a kiss that he gladly gives her. That is all it takes for her to forgive him. 

They both knew how important it was for Lucius to be at the Ministry, even if it had pained her to know that she would miss their child birth, she knew that Lucius did everything he could to get her as quickly as he could without causing a scene. 

When they both pull away from their kiss it is to notice wide grey-blue eyes staring up at them. Lucius is frozen for a moment under their stare, but Narcissa doesn’t waste a second, cooing at her son. 

“Good morning, little one. Did you wake up to see your Father?” 

The only reply she gets is a slow blink from the babe. 

Chuckling as Lucius takes a seat next to her bedside, she gently holds her son out to his father. 

Lucius looks at her, wide-eyed and frightened. 

“Take him.” 

It is not an option and they both know it.

Carefully Lucius takes the child from her arms, cradling him in his own. The babe’s face scrunches up and both parents wait with bated breaths for the child to wail or throw a fit, but it doesn’t come. Instead the child's face smooths out and he yawns. 

One blink, two blinks, each slower than the last and then the babe is asleep once more. 

Narcissa smiles tiredly at the most precious men in her life. Her smile only widens when Lucius looks up at her, his eyes full of awe. 

“He’s magnificent, love, oh you did so wonderful. Have you decided what we’re going to name him?”

Narcissa hummed for a moment, thinking her husband’s question over.

“Do you have anything in mind?”   
  


Lucius only smiled at her deflection. “Whatever you choose will be perfect, my dove.”

A flush filled her face before she could school it down, despite this she still scowled at her husband. 

A soft snore drew both of their eyes back to their child. Looking at his face reflected in the moonlight, Narcissa knew that she would be keeping tradition. She had the perfect name for her little light.

“Draco.”

“Draco?”

“Draconian shall be his name, thus Draco.”

Lucius snorted, “Keeping up with the family tradition, Miss Black?”

Narcissa childishly stuck her tongue out at her husband, which caused both of them to begin laughing. 

The laughter fades as both of them settle, comfortable in the knowledge that everything is okay. Narcissa can feel her eyes start to droop, fluttering shut in her exhaustion. 

The last thing she feels is a pair of soft lips on her forehead before she is lost to the waking world, and welcomes her dreams once again.

She always found comfort within her dreams, even when it was not within the waking world. Her dreams have always been painted a soft lilac, a pond lays in the middle of her mindscape, swirling with her magic. The pond is deceiving, small in size but with a large depth. It pusles as she returns to her Dreaming World. A fox lays at the edge of her pond, awaiting her return. It lifts its head when she comes back within herself, its tail dipped into the pond of her magic. A raspy bark is the greeting that she receives from the deepest part of herself.

“Hello my little vixen,” Narcissa pets the silvery, smoke-like fox. “Have you missed me?”

She gets a trill and a flick of the tail as her response that draws a laugh from her. 

“Yes, yes, I’ve missed you too. Now then,” Narcissa looks around her dreamscape. “It has been some time since it's just been me and you alone within my mind, what has caused the change?”

The fox raises and stretches, its tail still dipped into the pond, before it begins to walk. Its step illuminates a path that was hidden from Narcissa.

She can only huff at her other half before she follows behind it.

“Not even a hint as to where we are going? Not that I don’t love our little comes, but I don’t wish to be away for far too long.”

The fox does not acknowledge her words, just continues to walk, its tail painting her mindscape like an ink brush as it drags behind the foxes illuminating steps.

“I have a kit at home now, you know this of course. I’ll show you to him once Lucius leaves for work.”

At this the fox gives a small whine, its steps slowly slightly before it huffs and picks up the pace yet again.

“I know, I know, it’s not fair to you, little fox. But he has never been able to produce the symbol of his soul. It pains him to see you.”

She does not have to talk about the fear that he has, that they are not meant for each other like they believe. It is rare to have two people to have the same patronus marry, rarer still for a couple to complimenting souls. 

It didn’t bother her if they didn't have the same patronus, but she knew that he would take it as he didn’t love her enough to change the very fabric of his soul. (He didn’t need to change who he was, just had to love her and now love their son. That was enough for her.)

  
  


Lost in her thoughts of Lucius, she loses track of how far they have traveled within her mind. Only notices that their pace has begun to slow. Snapping out her thoughts, Narcissa looks around her. 

The soft lilac of her mind bleeds into a deep indigo. Narcissa stops walking, paying no mind to where her fox stops up ahead. 

“This isn’t my mind anymore,” she looks at her companion. “Where are you taking me?”

The fox just stares at her, its head tilted in a silent question, ‘you’ve come this far, what does it matter now?’ 

Narcissa can only sigh as she takes a step into the unknown mind. It is  _ different, _ some who are not Dreamers believe that going to anothers mindscape is akin to legilimency. But where legilimency is often forced upon the other party, sometimes harming the targets mind in the process, dreaming is different. 

Dreamers can pass through other people’s minds if there is already a connection, emotional or blood, there is no pain. There is nothing forceful about the enter, instead of breaking down a door, Dreamers are like the wind, blowing through the magic of the mindscape without a burden.

She knows this, so she does not fear that she is harming whoever's mind she resides in now. For a moment she believes that she is in Lucius' mind. But she knows that it is not so. Lucius’ mind is not this blue, instead it is a rich purple that borders on black. It shines like a jewel when she illuminates it on those rare instances that she traverses in his mind.

This mind does not gleam like a jewel, but rather shimmers like the ocean. Just the barest of light that can penetrate the depths. She and her fox shine like becanes in the depths, and as she continues to walk behind her fox, she notices that this mindscape is not a solid color. 

Blue is the base, yes, but it changes and blends between the hues as if the mindscape has not yet settled. On occasion the shimmer of silver passes her vision before it is consumed by the deep blues once again. 

This is Draco’s mind.

She realizes that suddenly, the revelation halts her movements. She is in her son's mind. _He is a Dreamer._ And that feels like a punch to the gut. She doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry. She can feel it, the lullaby that exists within each Dreamer's mindscape to alert the visitors that they have found one of their own, that they have found another home should they need it. Her mother's voice rings in her ears, her warnings making bile rise in her throat. _Be careful, little flower, I will not be around when you have your own child and if he is gifted like you_ _He cannot know, my precious Narcissus, my dear flower. You may love him so but he is a man who desires power above all else._

_ He cannot know. _

_ He cannot know. _

_ Lucius cannot know. _

She can feel the tension rise in her body, can feel the hum of her own lullaby reaching out to one of her own, and she  _ wants _ like she has never wanted anything else in this world. Knows that she would give up everything, the Malfoy name, the Black name,  _ her magic and her dreaming _ , to protect the little spark of purity that has blessed her life. 

Lucius will not know of their son's specialties, just as her own father was blind to hers. Just as her sisters were. If she were to be blessed with more children with the same gifts then and only then would they learn about her and Draco’s abilities. 

She is broken out of her worries by the chill of a nose pressed to her hand. Looking down she sees her companions' silver eyes peering up at her. With a small smile and a pat to its wispy head, they set off again. 

“Why are we here? It’s not like we’re going to be able to see him. I just had him after all.”

Silence reigns between them yet again. 

Naricssa huffs, “you used to speak to me. Not often but you did. I’ve missed hearing you.”

The fox just nudges her with its snout, an apology and scolding mixed together.

“I know, I haven’t spoken to you in quite some time either. I’m sorry, I just got so distracted with the marriage and pregnancy I didn’t come around as often as I used to.”

She stops here, looks around her son's mindscape that seems to stretch on forever, and sits down. 

Her companion stares at her confused.

She only laughs, “C’mon, sit with me, darling. My bright star isn’t going anywhere. He will be in the waking world once I open my eyes and I have all the time in the world to come to him and teach him the ways of Dreaming. My own mother didn’t begin teaching me until I was nearly of Hogwarts age. You, on the other hand, I have ignored for far too long. I cannot take back the time that we have lost, old friend, but I can take what time is presented to us now. Let us talk. Please. I have missed you so.”

The fox walks to its other half, taking a seat in front of her but still no words flood into Naricssa’s mind like they used to. Instead there is only an emptiness that she ignored and allowed to fester like a plague. 

“Please, please, dear one talk to me. What am I doing wrong?”

The fox has no answers for her, she knows that this is something that she must remember on her own. Her friend would help her if they could but this is one place that they cannot guide her. 

“Dear one, I have missed so much. You’ve missed me too though, haven’t you? I’ll remember I promise. Just, talk to me please.” 

A whine is the only answer that she gains from her pleading, her companion laying their head down on her leg. Slowly she caresses them, strokes her hand down the wispy soft fur, and hums. 

Her mother’s words come to her again as she basks in her other half's presence. 

_ Dreamers are special, little flower, our souls have names and they are precious things. Do not forget what your soul is named, for it will always remember your name. _

Names.

Her soul has a name.

The fox in front of her is a physical manifestation of her soul, of who she is. 

It is not Narcissa, while they are two halves of the same whole Narcissa is not so vain to think that her soul is at least a little bit detached from herself in the same sense that all Dreamers' souls are. But, if not Narcissa then what? A name after a star does not suit the fox in front of her, nor does the name of any jewel that she can name. 

The fox is wisdom and trust. Faith in herself and in family, hope for her family and son, for a better future. 

Her dear companion is a birth of spring that goes with her own Narcissus perfectly.

“Iris.” Her voice is soft and unsure when she calls out to her companion.

“ _ So you’ve finally called out to me.”  _ The fox huffs into its tamers leg.

A wide smile stretches on Narcissa’s face when the fox’s cool tone floats into her mind. “So you’ve finally decided to answer me.”

“ _ I was not the one who forgot.” _

Narcissa cannot stop from wincing at the bitter tone that comes from her oldest friend. “No, you were not. There is nothing that I can do to make up for what I have forgotten dear one, but I will not forget you again. I will not allow it.”

“ _ You cannot promise me that,”  _ the fox whines. “ _ You said it yourself, you got distracted with your life outside of the Dreaming, and now you have your own kit. One that called to you despite his youth, you will be even more distracted.” _

“Dear one, please listen to me.”

“ _ I do not blame you for forgetting nor will I blame you when you forget again, your kit is a special one.” _

Narcissa does not allow Iris to continue down this way, instead she gently takes hold of the foxes face.

“Listen to me and listen well, dear one. I will wake soon, I must after all return to the world of the Waking, but I will not forget you. You are correct, my bright star is special, and he has called to me in his sleep. But he has called to you as well. You came with me to greet him, and you will be with me as he grows and greets his other half. You are me and I am you.”

Iris whines softly and nuzzles into Narcissa’s hands. 

“ _ What if this was a fluke, and you awaken with no memory of me aside from the fox that guides you yet again? I do not think I could bear losing our connection a second time, my flower.” _

“Call out to me, Iris. Our connection is strong and true, and it will stay that way. Should it ever waver, all you need to do is call to me and I will come to you. I will bring my child with me and you will love him just as I do, I know you will.”

“ _ And if I don’t? Love is a tricky emotion, my flower. You adore that child because he is breath and blood of your own. He is not mine. You, and only you, are mine. What would you do if I do not come to love the kit as you do? I am not so vain to believe that you would choose our connection over him, nor would I want to put you in the position.”  _

“Blood is blood, but bonds have always been deeper than just blood, little fox. You know this. It is true, you may not adore him as I do, and that is fine. You do not have to adore him in the beginning, he will grow and change and you will help guide him and his own just as you have helped guide me. I believe in you, Iris. I believe in the kindness that you hold in your heart, I believe in the purity and innocence that you have guarded for me since childhood. Believe in yourself, Iris.”

Narcissa can feel the stirring of Awakening begin, the waking world calling for her once more. Silently she mourns the loss of more time with her oldest friend, but she resolves herself to Dream more, explore with Iris again like she used to as a young girl.

She cannot give Iris the time that she has lost, but she can at least give her a farewell.

“I am being called back, dear one,” her voice is soothing but tinted with the sadness that she feels. 

“ _ I know, I can feel you start to drift from the Dreaming.” _

“I will return to you, and together we will see my bright star. You will adore him, I know you will.”

Iris gives a soft trill, “ _ If he is anything like you, my flower, than I have no doubt about that. Go now, your kit and mate are waiting for you.” _

“Call for me, Iris, even when the Waking world draws my attention, you are still apart of me. Call for me and I will come to you.”

“ _ It is time to wake up now, I hope to see you again soon. Try not to forget me again.”  _

Narcissa wakes with laughter in her throat and tears in her eyes. Her husband is no longer in the room, his voice carries into the room from the hallway. Exasperation colors his tone, underneath is anger. 

Her child is laying in her arms, his blue-grey eyes looking up at her. 

She coos at him, his cherub face breaking into a toothless smile.

“Good morning, my little star. I hope that you have slept well?”

She does not expect an answer from her child, of course, but she cannot help the warmth that she feels as he gurgles at her. 

She is ready for it when Lucius comes back into the room, a scowl decorating his previously happy face. He startles slightly when he notices both his wife and child awake and waiting for him. In just a moment he schools his anger expression, replacing it yet again with a soft smile. Narcissa does not allow that to deter her.

“They called you back in already, haven’t they?”

Lucius sighs, pushing his platinum blonde hair back. He’d have to tie it up again when he left for the Ministry. “Yes, apparently they don’t understand the fact that my wife just  _ gave birth _ .” He scowls yet again. 

Narcissa smiles at her husband, “and you’ll go because they need you, and it is you duty and-”

“Malfoys do not shy away from their duties.” He finishes for her, returning her small with a small one of his own. 

“I do not wish to leave you yet, my love. You or our little one.” 

“Hush now, love, we will be here when you return.”

He sighs, “I know, I know. I suppose I must be off. But first,” he crosses the room in three easy strides before planting a kiss to Narcissa’s forehead. “I love you, darling.”

A petal of laughter falls from her lips, “And I you.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Draco’s forehead as well. “I love you as well, little light. Be good for your mother.”

A gurgle is the only response he gets, but it is a response that drags a smile from both of his parents.

“Off you go now, love, before they call you again. The sooner you get in there, the sooner you can return to us.”

“I know, I know.” He lingers still, a finger caressing his child's cheek.

Draco’s small hand reaches him and takes hold of his father's hand.

Narcissa smiles at the choked sound that comes from her husband. Her own hand reaches out to cover her husbands and childs. They sit like that for a moment, aware of the pressing issues that are calling her husband but neither wanting to break this moment of peace that they are experiencing. 

The moment cannot last forever, however, and all too soon does Lucius have to extract himself from his family. He presses one last kiss to the two most important people in his life before he leaves the room. 

Narcissa smiles at his retreating backside before she turns her attention to her child. In the absence of his father’s finger, Draco has taken to holding onto Narcissa’s finger instead. She coos at him, wiggling her unheld hand in his face to entice a smile from him.

“We’ll probably be here until your Father gets back, little one. I’m sure that he would want to escort us home.” She huffs, “even if he knows that I’m more than capable of taking the floo back home myself. Oh well, while we have some time there is someone very dear to be that I would like you to meet, my little star.”

Narcissa closes her eyes, typically to call upon the patronus one would have to invoke the spell, but Dreamers are different. So entwined to their patronuses from childhood, they simply need to call out for them with the name of their other soul. 

‘Iris, would you like to come meet my kit?’

‘ _ What about your mate, my flower?’ _

‘He is not here any longer.”

Narcissa can feel the wisps of Iris materialize, the smokey fox lies curled up by Narcissa’s side. Iris’ head lies on Narcissa’s arm, her snout directly in front of Draco.

“ _ He is very small. Not at all like you when you first met.” _

Narcissa laughs at the confusion that colors Iris’ face. “That is because we formally met when I was nearly 11, Mother made it so we would not meet before then. Remember?”

“ _ Ah, right, you said it was a potion.” _

“Yes, Dreamless sleep.”

Iris glances at her dearest one, “ _ are you going to do the same to him?” _

There is weariness in her tone, accusation in her eyes. Narcissa cannot soothe it quick enough. 

“No, never. Mother did what she thought was best for my safety in our household, but I will not take my son’s other half from him like she did.”

“ _ Even to protect him from his father?” _

It is sadness now that colors Narcissa’s smile, “No, not even to protect him against his father. My mother went one way to protect her child and I will go another. But that is a discussion for a later date, when his own calls to him.”

Iris huffs, “ _ You’re running away, my flower. He will be called to soon enough. He has already begun to call out after all.” _

“I know, I know, I’m just not ready yet, Iris.”

“ _ I will drop it for now. Introduce me to your kit.” _

Like a switch Narcissa lights up yet again, cooing at her son. “Yes, of course! Little Dragon, this is my dearest other half, Iris. She has been my companion for many years, you too will have one as you grow. It may not be a fox like my dear Iris, but whatever it is will be just as glorious as you are.” 

“ _ Greetings, little kit. May the light shine on you and the constellation that you were named for guide you through the darkest of nights.”  _ With that Iris presses her snout directly to Draco’s forehead, right where Lucius has previously kissed him. “ _ You are the kit of my own, and I will watch you as you grow. I will protect you when my flower cannot and guide you until your own has learned our ways, this I promise you.” _

“Iris!” Narcissa can only stare wide eyed at her companion. “You can’t just-”

“ _ Hush, dear one. I know well what I am doing. I do not know if I will love him the way I love you, but I know how important he is to you. If he is yours then he is mine. I will do what your Mother refused to ask her own to do for you. Worry not, he will grow safe under my light.” _

“I know he will, Iris, but you don’t have to do that. Not right now, not ever! I was going to tell Lucius about us, make him take an Unbreakable Vow. I was  _ not _ going to bind you to my child!”

“ _ Your mate is like a wessel, and while he would take the Vow he would always be plotting. I will not allow him to harm you. You would do the Vow and forget about yourself, I know you would.  _ _ You _ _ are not binding me to anything. I give myself freely to the star that shares your blood, it is not a chain that I haven’t forced upon myself.” _

Tears well up in Narcissa’s eyes at Iris’ words. “I do not know how to ever repay you Iris.”

At this Iris pulls away from her new charge, watches as his grey-blue eyes are overtaken by a molten silver of her arcane magic before they slip closed into rest once more. She faces her eldest friend once more. 

“ _ Be happy, that is all I have ever wanted from you. Guide your star well, and keep him safe now. Be the Mother that I know that you can be, and be the Black that you were always meant to be.” _

Narcissa laughs at her words. “I am a Malfoy now, as is Draco.”

Iris huffs at that, giving a small lick to Narcissa’s cheek. “ _ You married a Malfoy and took the name, but in your heart you are still a Black. Still part of a family name that has begun to chase the light. Your kit may share the wessel’s blood, but the Black line sings true in his veins. You call him a star, ensure that he may shine like one. Now rest again. Follow your child into the Dreaming. Your mate will wake you when he returns and you will be free to go home. Until then show your kit what you wish your mother would have shown you. Sleep.” _

“Iris…” Narcissa’s eyes are overtaken by the molten silver like her fox’s before she too falls back into the world of rest. 

Iris can feel the pull of her own and her charge, to join them in the Dreaming and be their guide. “ _ I will keep you both safe. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam. This I promise you both.” _


	2. Is the Greatest Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lucius?” 
> 
> “Lord Voldemort is dead.”
> 
> The amount of relief that fills her at those words makes her feel guilty. But she believes it for the best, honestly. 
> 
> She can not tell him this however. 
> 
> Instead she grimaces, “What are you going to do?”
> 
> “What Malfoys have always done: survive.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope that you all have been enjoying this story as much as I have had writing it. 
> 
> Again, this is unbeta'd so if there is any mistakes just let me know!

They brought Draco home just a few days later, the Manor wards shifting in accordance with the newest addition to the Malfoy bloodline. They laid gently over the babe’s skin, twirling with his own undisturbed magical core and humming as the bond between home and Master settled once more. The house elves stood at the ready, waiting to greet their youngest Master. The Manor was almost exactly the way that they had left it, but now a faint undertone of drying paint hung in the air; it was the only sign that the Manor had undergone renovations to accommodate the newest charge. The house seemed brighter with the addition of the newest Malfoy, the hearths were light and the flames burned bright and true, a testament to the love that was already felt for Draco. 

The elves scrambled when the Manor door opened, each wanting to be the first to greet their newest charge, pushed forwards by the movement of his kin, it was Dobby that stood at the great white door. He stood rigid, wringing his hands together. His already large eyes were wide as the door swung open.

“Welcome home Master, and Mistress. Dobby and the others have been waiting for you, yes they have.” 

The house elf flinched back as Lucius stalked past him and the others, his head down and ear pointed towards the ground. Narcissa heaves a sigh as the backside of her husband disappears towards the rest of the Manor, likely he was headed to the study. 

Four days since their son's birth and Lucius had been swamped with work the entire time. She did not hold it against him; however, she knew how important his job was to their standing in the Wizarding Community. That did not make it any easier to swallow however. 

Naricissa moves to follow her husband towards the rest of the Manor, well aware of the stares of the house elves. She does not make it a step before a gurgle halts her. Looking down she notices that Draco has his hand reaching out to the house elf that greeted them as they walked into the Manor. 

Dobby.

Her son makes another gurgled noise, his small hand closing and opening repeatedly. The creature is still looking down even as the other elves are trying to get a look at Draco’s face. 

She does not understand her son's interest in the creature before her, but she will not deny him his curiosity. Instead she turns to one of the elves that are currently clamoring near her and Draco. 

“I require a chair, one the is suitable for myself and Draco.”

The moment that the request left her mouth she could hear the distinct pop of an elf leaving the room to fetch her the required chair. Dobby had looked up momentarily, his wide eyes catching her own before forcing his head back down. His small body shaking with minute tremors. On the other hand, the elves that had stayed after her request were all mouthing the name of the newest charge, awe decorating each of their faces. 

No sooner did she shift Draco’s weight in her arms did the elf return with the chair that she asked for. It was wooden with arms, with a plush cushion for her to sit on and plush on the arms to soften the weight of her son. 

With a wave of her in thanks, she gratefully sat down alleviating the pressure to her already sore legs and back. As soon as she and Draco are settled she looks at the cowering elf. She does get to call his attention however, due to their new position Draco only has to stretch slightly within her arms before his small hand taps the downturned head of Dobby. 

The poor creature startles at the sudden touch, his head snapping up to meet Draco’s soft grey eyes. 

“Dobby is not meaning to be in the way, Mistress and little Master. Dobby will be getting away now, Dobby will punish himself most grievously for being in your way, Mistress.” The creature bows his head once again, his body shaking. 

Draco wrabbles at Dobby, his small hand still reaching out towards the house elf. Nariccsa gives her son a small smile before shaking her head at Dobby. “No need for that. Raise your head, the newest Malfoy would like to greet you properly.” She inclines her head to the rest of the elves that surround them still, “you all as well. Come closer and greet him properly.”

“This,” she shifts slightly so that the elves can get a better look at her son, “is Draco Malfoy. He will be in your care from now on. I accept that you all will do your best to ensure that he is happy, of course.” The elves all nodded in agreement, aside from Dobby who continued to stare at her son. 

All it takes is another gurgle from Draco, his small hand still reaching out for Dobby for the elf to crumble and reach his own hand out as well. 

Narcissa can feel Iris in the back of her mind, the soft purr that comes from her does not startle her although she does send back a questioning hum to her companion. 

_ ‘Your little one is special, indeed, flower. I’ve never seen a kit call to another that was not blood so soon after their birth, especially not before their own Waking.’ _

Narcissa sends another questioning hum through their bond while staying focused on her son and the way the elf in front of her moves slowly as though he is preparing to be scolded for coming near Draco at any time. 

‘Of course you haven’t, this is the first child I have ever had after all.’

Amusement is sent her way along with the feeling of wind on her face, the aderlinaline that courses through their veins during a hunt. 

_ ‘We have always been one, my flower, even when you were not you and I was another. Even in times long forgotten. He is a special one, not even the greatest of you kin called as he does.’ _

Narcissa can feel as the scowl begins on her face and only smooths it out once she notices the fact that Dobby has begun to pale and drop his hand as he takes glances at her. Instead she sighs and inclines her head to him, an indication that he may continue. 

‘He is an elf.’

_ ‘And you were once nothing more than human with no magical prowess to your name, they at least have that over you do they not?’ _

‘But-’

‘ _ But nothing, my flower. Would you deny your son a part of what calls to him for your own ideals? Would you do that to him?’ _

The unspoken  _ would you be like your mother _ hangs in the air between them, and that is all it takes for Narcissa to drop it. She does not agree with Iris, not entirely, yes she wants her son to be surrounded by whatever his soul calls to him but an  _ elf? _ Her son deserved more, someone better, someone purer, someone-

No, she had to stop thinking like that. Her son would not have reached out to him if he did find him worthy. And if her son finds him worthy then she would too. It may take her time, but she would  _ not _ rip her child away from whomever he wishes to close to. She was  _ not _ going to be like her Mother.

With that in mind, and Iris gentle reassurances, she leans forward, bringing Draco closer to the one that he has called to. 

Naturally the skittish creature tries to take a step back, but the crowd of elves around him does not allow him to go far. 

“Dobby, this is Draco Malfoy,” she waits for elfs wide green eyes to meet her own. She goes to continue but then takes a glance at the surrounding company and grimaces. “If your name is not Dobby then I request that you leave us and not come back until I call for you.”

She is answered with various squeaks and multiple pops before the room is filled with only her, Dobby, and Draco. 

“Mistress, Dobby is being sorry for having come so close to the Young Master. Dobby did not mean anything by it, he promises.”

She does not try to placate the elf, knowing that her words would be meaningless to him. Instead she continues on with her original point. “Dobby.”

“Y-yes, Mistress?”

“This is Draco Malfoy,” she repeats for a third time. “But, he is much more than just the Malfoy heir, do you understand?”

At the elf’s hesitant nods she continues, “He is my greatest treasure, I adore him with all of my heart.” Dobby nods once again, not sure what this has to do with him. “My dragon is very special however,” at this she narrows her eyes at the elf. “What I am about to tell you, you are not to tell anyone else. Not a soul, not Lucius, not any of his friends, not even the other elves. Do I make myself clear?”

Dobby’s wide eyes fill with fear but he nods anyway.

A smile graces her lips even as Iris nips at her subconscious for fearing the poor creature.

“He is very special, but that means that sometimes people will want to harm my darling one. I cannot have that happen. He called to you,” she falters here, unsure. “I do not know what that means for him or for us, truly, but I do that he calls to you. So, I ask of you, please stay by his side.”

“The Mistress wishes for Dobby to serve the Young Master?”

“In a way.” It is not quite right, not quite what her son will want as he grows, but that is an issue for a later time. Right now all that mattered was that Dobby agreed.

“Of course, Mistress. Dobby is living to serve the Malfoys. Dobby will serve the Young Master.”

She knows that the elf doesn’t quite understand what she asking of him, but figures that what he knew was good enough for now. She would explain more as Draco grew and called to Dobby and herself more. For now she smiles at the house elf. 

“Thank you, Dobby. Now then, let’s go see your new room, little one.” 

With that new thought, Narcissa rose from the plush chair and walked past Dobby. Leaving the elf and chair in the Manor entrance. 

For a while that is how it went. Lucius was often called away to work, but he spent every spare minute that he had with Narcissa and Draco. He complained often about the amount of work that he had to do due to the incompetence of the other workers, truthfully he loved his job but the amount of time that it took away from his growing family left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. 

Narcissa for her part did not mind the fact that he was away often. Draco filled the loneliness that she felt stuck in the large Manor on her own and while Lucius was away, Narcissa took the time to get Iris and Draco well acquainted. Draco seemed to adore the corporeal fox, making noises and grabbing her much like he does to Dobby. 

The elf had taken what she had told him seriously. Lucius paid no mind to the name of their elves so it was easy for Dobby to dedicate himself to Draco. He came when Narcissa called to him, and took care of Draco on the rare instances that she was called away from the Manor. The Young Master had grabby hands and a curious nature so the poor elf’s ears and nose were often victim to Draco’s surprisingly strong grip. 

Draco was a quiet babe, grey-blue eyes always shifting to take in the world around him. Narcissa spent much of her time just walking him around the Manor, showing him the gardens and the peacocks. They preened under her care and attention, but they were enamored with Draco. Fawning over him anytime she brought him outside, and following her around even pecking gently at her hells - something that they had never done to her before- when they wanted to have a closer look at Draco. He would squeal as they got close, their tails fanning behind them. 

It is when Draco is a year old, celebrating his second Hallowe’en that things begin to change. The sun rose on the Manor, illuminating into a pure alabaster that shimmered under its rays; it crept into the Manor through the arching windows. Lucius was home, cooing at the way that Draco wobbled after his mother. 

It was a good day for the Malfoy family, Draco had begun to form together loose sentences. Much to the annoyance of his father, Draco’s favorite word was ‘mama’ which he said every few moments. (His second favorite was ‘iris’, Lucius figured that Narcissa had read Draco a plant catalogue and promptly ordered some Irises to be planted in the Malfoy garden.)

He called to Lucius on occasions, but mostly Draco prefered to stay in the company of his mother.

(Lucius did  _ not  _ pout at that fact, no matter what his darling wife said otherwise. And he most certainly did not tear up the first time that Draco turned to him and called him ‘papa.’)

But as dusk drew the day closer to a close, Lucius’ face twisted in pain, a hiss drawing past his lips. He hurries to assure Narcissa that everything is okay, before he disappears into his study clutching at his left forearm. She watches him leave the Manor’s living room, her mouth set into a frown. The Wizarding War was still ongoing, and Lucius could be called at any moment to leave and join the battlefield. 

(She could not help the bitter thoughts that they should have left the War behind once Draco was born. They had enough power with Lucius' job in the Ministry and the Malfoy name, along with both came more than enough money that not even Draco’s grandchildren would have to work.)

Once Lucius is gone from the room, Narcissa turns to where Draco has taken to watching a little ball that she had charmed to continuously change seasons. (He likes fall, and spring well enough but nothing compares to the way his eyes light up at the sight of snow. His squeal the first time a snowflake touched his nose is one of her fondest memories.

Naricssa knows that it was foolish of her but she hopes that it would be the last call - the one that signified the end of the war. One that declares that their side had risen and became victors. One that promised no more fighting, that would allow Draco to grow up in the world that he deserved. Or at the very least she hopes that it is not yet another summons. The war has gone on for far too long and she does not wish for Draco to lose his father before he is truly even old enough to know him, nor does she wish to lose her husband. They may not always agree, but he is her love. She is not sure how she would handle it if he was stolen from her. 

But she knows that there is no use in dwelling in possibilities. Lucius is in his study, and it is getting late. With a final glance towards Lucius’ study, she scoops Draco up, smiling at the squeal and the soft ‘Mama!’ that followed after. 

“It’s almost time for bed, little Dragon.”

  
  


Draco pouted at his mother, “but Mama-”

“Ah,ah, no buts. If you’re a good boy will you get changed and Mama tucks you in then  _ maybe _ you’ll get a prize.”

At the mention of a reward, Draco’s eyes light up. Without an ounce of hesitation, he twists in her arms, most likely searching for his father. Once he has confirmed that Lucius is not in the living nor anywhere that he could see, he turns back to Narcissa.

Leaning forward with a look of focus on his face, he whispers to her. “Does that mean you and Iris will sing to me tonight?”

Laughter rings in her mind, Iris’ joy can be plainly felt across the bond that they share. There is no stain across the bond nor does it drain her magic as much when Iris becomes corporeal. She winds around Narcissa and Draco easily, her tail resting on Narcissa’s check while her nose nuzzles into Draco’s cheek.

“ _ Oh little Dragon. Of course we will sing to you. But wouldn’t you rather your reward something more like a new toy? Or some candy perhaps?”  _

“Draco, little one, we already sing to you every night. Surely there must be something else you want?”

Narcissa would give him anything that he asked for, as would Lucius, and she is sure that Draco knows this. But even she is surprised at the request that comes from Draco. She figured that he would ask for some chocolate frogs or for them to go out for the day. Instead, he asks for something that has already been a tradition. 

Draco makes a small noise that echoes through the halls as they walk to his room. His nose is scrunched up and brows furrowed. “I want you to sing to me, Mama. Please?”

Iris licks his cheek, a trill sounding from her throat. “ _ Your mother is correct, though, we already sing to you. Unless you have a special request for tonight?” _

“Can I?”

“Of course, little dragon. What would you like us to do?” Narcissa answers in lieu of Iris.

She smiles as her son nuzzles into Iris, a comfort gesture, and one that Narcissa knows she should break. But watching Draco and feeling Iris’ joy at the gesture has always stopped her hand. She does not want to take that away from either of them. 

She does not repeat her question, nor does either she or Iris pressure Draco into answering. Much to Lucius’ displeasure, Draco was turning out to be a quiet and non assertive child. He had his moments of sassiness and occasional playful aggression - typically when Iris was chasing him around the Manor backyard while Lucius was away - but overall he enjoyed quiet and simple things. 

It is when she pushes up his door that he finally raises his head, although he still does not speak. His walls are soft grey tone, stars shimmer on the wall next to his bed to form his name sake.

He speaks only when she sets him on her bed and moves to his dresser to gather his pajamas. Iris has stayed with him, moving to curl around his neck much like a fur scarf. 

“..Not in the Dreaming.” Draco’s voice is soft and barely audible even in the silent room. Narcissa grabs his son's night clothes and makes her way back to the bed.

“ _ What about the Dreaming, dear one?” _

“I want you and Mama to sing to me-”

“And we will, Little Dragon.”

“-but not in the Dreaming.”

Oh. 

Narcissa shares a look with Iris. For as often as Iris reminds her, it is easy to forget that her son is very sensitive to the Dreaming. She has memories of her own mother singing to her in the Dreaming, but if it weren’t for Iris, she would have never known that those moments didn’t happen in the waking world.

Narcissa sets down the clothes beside Draco before kneeling down in front of her son. He is looking at the ground, refusing to meet her eyes. She sighs softly before tapping his chubby knee. 

“Of course we’ll sing to you. Inside or outside of the Dreaming, whichever you choose.”

The smile that she receives outshines even the brightest star in the night sky. 

It takes no time at all for Narcissa to dress Draco in his night clothes, but she takes special care to tuck him into bed and places his two favorite toys next to him: a plush dragon and a silvery fox. 

He is asleep before their song is finished, and while Iris has followed him into the Dreaming and she can feel their pull, she has her duty as a wife to go check on Lucius. She presses a soft kiss to Draco’s forehead before leaving the room.

Night has fallen but still the moon shines through the Manor windows, illuminating her path towards Lucius' study.

She finds him there hunched over his desk, his left sleeve rolled up. The mark that has bandied him since he was a young adult is no longer black against his pale skin, but rather a faded semi-grey. His face is pulled taunt and there is sweat beading down his forehead. 

His eyes snap up to hers when she walks in. His gray eyes are bloodshot with pain, and faint tear streaks shine on his cheeks. His eyes are hard when they meet her own, and that is what makes her steps falter.

“Lucius?” 

“Lord Voldemort is dead.”

The amount of relief that fills her at those words makes her feel guilty. But she believes it for the best, honestly. 

She can not tell him this however. 

Instead she grimaces, “What are you going to do?”

“What Malfoys have always done: survive.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated and I hope to see you all again soon.


	3. To be his hoard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco would be free.
> 
> Iris, as always, knows exactly what she is trying to say even when she is at a loss for word. She has been with Narcissa for years, has been with her in lives when her name wasn’t that of a flower but of the seasons, of the wind, of the valley, she has always found her way to her. In this life and the next, she will find her even if Narcissa cannot speak to her, she will do her best to stay by her side. Even still she does not ask her flower if it would truly be that should Lucius not return, she does not think that Narcissa is ready to handle the answer that is inside of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this story so far, I'm having fun writing it.   
> As always this is unbeta'd so if there is any mistakes, just let me know.

After the fall of Voldermort, Lucius is cautious. He continues to smile at the right people and makes sure to publicly disagree with the wrong ones. That doesn’t stop the Aurors from pressing against the Manor wards. Narcissa has gone for a quick trip to France, taking Draco with her. Lucius has opted not to go, instead staying home and focusing on his work.

He does not flare his magic to let the Aurors know that he is home, he suspects that they already know he is. Instead, he heads downstairs into the kitchen and calls for a cup of tea. No sugar, naturally. It is just as he has been given his cup of tea and has taken a seat that there is a knock on the door. He allows himself to take a long, slow sip before signaling for the elves to open the door to their guests.

Three Aurors enter his house, seemingly more in awe at the Manor than concerned at the matter at hand. He smiles at them easily, noting with some satisfaction, that the Aurors that the Ministry sent to him are ones that he has spoken with often.

“Gentlemen, to what do I owe this unprompted visit?”

The one closest to the entryway- Johnatan, perhaps?- smiles back at him nervously, his hand twitching at his side. “Sorry, Lucius, but we have an order to take you in. I don’t believe what they’re saying, of course. But, y’know, a case is a case.”

The chair schreechs on the floor as Lucius stands, his entire being reflects calmness. “Of course, let’s hope that we can clear this misunderstanding up quickly, hmm?”

By the time that Narcissa returns home with Draco in tow, Lucius is still away. She places the books down on the table, gesturing for Draco to do the same with his small bag, the small head of a wolf plush poking through the top. It is only after he has placed the bag on the table, and she has removed the wolf and handed it to her son to carry with him, does she look around the house for her husband. Draco’s own steps trailing behind her, four for every one of her own. She smiles to herself and can feel Iris’s own happiness through their bond everytime Draco trails after her like a duckling. 

They check the study first, recalling that Lucius had work from the Ministry that he was trying to check up. His papers are in neat piles on his desk, the fire still burning brightly, despite this there is no sign of Lucius. She heads to the library next, perhaps Lucius had needed to borrow a book? Or was simply taking a break? Draco follows behind her dutifully, his new toy cradled in his arms. 

She knows that it is wistful thinking, but perhaps Lucius was getting rid of the Dark books that plagued their library. She had wanted to keep Draco away from it, she had not minded when the War was raging and she was with child, but now he child is alive, they are alive even if the War was lost. That has to mean something. 

The door to the library is closed, which isn’t unusual especially when Lucius got into one of his more engrossed moods. She often used to tease him that he could have been sorted into Ravenclaw for his insatiable thirst for knowledge. She sees that same thirst in her son as she opens the door to the library, watches as his grey eyes go wide and awe shines in them. He is practically vibrating at her side, and that makes her smile fondly.

Despite his joy, there is no sign of Lucius in the library either, Narcissa can feel a frown begin to tug at the corner of her lips before she forces it to smooth out. If he’s not in the library then he should either be in the parlor or maybe he is outside visiting the peafowls. Or in their room, resting? No, he’s not the type to sleep during the day and it wouldn’t have taken him this long to change. 

Narcissa turned to Draco, already calling Iris to her. “Little Dragon, do you want to look for your Father in the gardens or the parlor? Whichever we don’t take, Iris will.”

She watches as he scrunches up his nose, the parlor is not a room he has visited often. It was really only in use when they had guests over, but there weren’t often children that came along with their guests and there was not much for a two year old to do there no matter how well behaved he was. On the other hand, Draco loved the garden. Loved watching as Narcissa called to the flowers with her magic, loved watching the way they gleamed and grew, loved cooing over the peafowl and squealing as they chased him around the garden and gently nipped at his ankles. 

She knows this, so it is unsurprising when he looks up at her with excitement shining in his eyes. “Ga’den, Maman!”

“Okay, darling. Iris, are you alright with taking the parlor for me?”

_ “Of course, my flower.” _

“Thank you, please be careful.”

Iris detaches herself from Narcissa, swiftly giving both Narcissa and Draco a lick to their cheeks, before vanishing into the nearest wall. Narcissa huffs a laugh at the foxes antics and picks Draco up. It’ll be faster this way, and he is not as likely to get distracted on their mission of finding his Father. Probably. 

The walk down to the gardens was not particularly long, despite the Manor’s lavish size. It took Narcissa just a few minutes to complete, with Draco pointing out the different rooms to his wolf.

She wondered, not for the first time, what his other half would be. A fox would fit him well, and she knew that Iris would be thrilled to have one of her own kin watching over their Dragon, but while it would fit him well it wasn’t quite  _ right _ . A snake would fit him fine as well, Slytherin blood ran through his veins after all, and she knew that he would take kindly to a creature that enjoyed curling around him. Again, it wasn’t  _ right _ . Whatever it would be, she was sure that it would be just as fantastic as her son, but she couldn’t deny that she was getting impatient. 

She wasn’t sure what the right age for a child to meet their other half was, her mother had kept her from Iris until she went to Hogwarts and never spoke of when she met her other half. Never even told Narcissa the name or what creature it was. For all she knew, Draco might not call his other half until he was older, maybe he wouldn’t even call them until he was already a Hogwarts student. While uncommon, her son was anything but ordinary. No matter, she would love him even if he did not call to his own until he was an adult, and she knew that Iris would guide him in the absences of his other half.

She has not felt anything while they have Dreamed, he has not called to anyone aside from her, Iris, and Dobby. Not even Lucius. Nor has anything called to him, like Iris called to her. That’s fine, he is young and has time. She just wants Draco to feel the same joy she felt when she gained Iris, is all. 

She is taken out of her musings by her son’s squeals. She looks around, hoping to find Lucius, but instead is greeted by the usual array of flowers and peafowl. They have, of course, noticed both her and Draco’s entrance and have left the spot by the water where they were sunbathing, and have now flocked to them. Preening under Draco’s attention as they always do. Narcissa coos at them as well when Draco turns to her, his eyes wide. His laughter fills the garden as the peacocks fan out their tails while the peahens continue walking around them, nipping affectionately at Narcissa’s heels, and occasionally at Draco’s outreached hand. 

She shoos them gently, waiting for them to back a little so that she and Draco can settle on the ground while they wait for Iris to come back, hopefully to tell them that she has found Lucius. The flock swarms her once again as soon as she settles, and she lets Draco go from her arms. She takes the wolf from him when he offers it, and laughs as he and the peafowl begin their chase.

She watches as they peafowl near her son, getting close enough to nearly nip at his heels, before Draco picks up speed yet again and gets out of their reach. She smiles when she feels Iris press her cold nose against her arm.

“Any sign of him?”

_ “No, he was not in the parlor, nor in any of the halls that I passed through.” _

“I see, thank you, Iris.”

“ _ You’re quite welcome, would you like me to ask the elves if they know where he went?” _

“Would you?”

“ _ Of course, dear one.”  _

The chill of Iris’s nose leaves her feeling cold when it disappears. She smiles when she catches Draco’s eye, despite the unease that she feels inside. The smile that he sends back to her eases her heart just slightly. This is unlike Lucius to just live without at least a note or  _ something _ to let them know where he went and when he would be back. It had been a problem for a little while but as soon as she was pregnant, he changed, let her know not to worry and roughly when he would be back if he had such knowledge. It continued even after Draco was born, now a habit more than anything but one that eased her mind with the aftermath of the War still going on. 

The war.

Lucius had played a part in it, Narcissa wasn’t exactly sure what he did, plausible deniability after all would protect her should his actions ever come to light. She knew that what he did was not necessarily  _ good _ but it was supposed to be for the good of the Malfoy name, for the good of all Dark Wizards and Witches. Show that they were less than their more light-inclined kin. 

But they had lost. No doubt the light was trying to gather up all the loose ends of the dark. Would that include Lucius? He was a smart and cautious man, but he could become blind and slip up on occasions, is that what happened? Had he been taken from them without a word to her or their child? Would the Ministry tell her the truth if she even asked it?

The cool press of Iris’s nose brings her out of her musings, and she looks down at the silvery fox, expectation clear on her face.

She is rewarded with a huff and the inclining of a head. “ _ He was taken a few hours before we returned.” _

“Taken? By whom?” 

“ _ Aurors. The elves did not get their names, but they say their robes. He went willingly.” _

“I see,” a frown plays on her lips and she nearly loses herself in her musing once more, questions and what ifs bombarding her mind when sharp teeth gently nip at her wrist. 

She startles, twisting to stare at Iris, who meets her gaze easily, teeth bared slightly. 

“ _ You are not a helpless maiden, even if you cannot get him from the Aurors, you can take care of yourself and your kit until he returns.” _

“ _ If _ he returns you mean.”

“ _ If he returns, and if not then we will deal with that when that moment comes. You are not helpless, Narcissa. You do not have to sit and wallow in your mind alone. You are not alone.” _

“I know, I know. I’m just,” here Narcissa struggles, because she  _ is _ worried. She loves Lucius and she has heard of the fate waiting for people on the wrong side of the war but,  _ but _ if he were gone then there would be no darkness to the Malfoy name. She would never ask Draco to follow the Dark Arts, and would try to steer him away from them. They would have to deal with the consequences of Lucius' involvement, but they could recover from it.

Draco would be free.

Iris, as always, knows exactly what she is trying to say even when she is at a loss for word. She has been with Narcissa for years, has been with her in lives when her name wasn’t that of a flower but of the seasons, of the wind, of the valley, she has always found her way to her. In this life and the next, she will find her even if Narcissa cannot speak to her, she will do her best to stay by her side. Even still she does not ask her flower if it would truly be that should Lucius not return, she does not think that Narcissa is ready to handle the answer that is inside of herself. 

Despite this they both know that she would choose Draco over Lucius any day. 

As if sensing them thinking about them, Draco trots over, the peafowl flocking him on either side. He rubbed his eye as he neared Narcissa and Iris, causing both of them to coo at him. 

“Have you exhausted yourself, Little Dragon?”

_ “He can get exhausted?”  _ Iris snorted as Draco stuck his tongue out at her. 

“‘m tired, Maman.”

Chuckling, Narcissa holds her arms out to him, cooing once again when he all but flops into her arms. He cuddles closer to her, and takes his wolf from between them to curl a single arm around it. 

“Shall we go take a nap then?”

She gets a hum in response and huffs another laugh, scooping her child into her arms properly, her worries about Lucius steadily fading away in the face of Draco’s childish display. 

The walk to Draco’s room takes longer than the walk to the garden did, Narcissa is being extra careful not to jostle the child in her arms as he is half asleep. Sending a bit of her magic through Iris, she uses the fox to open the door.

She sends a smile to the fox along with a whispered word of thanks before she enters the room, closing the door as soon as Iris enters the room as well. 

She takes off his shoes, one handed and casts a quick  _ Scourgify _ at his clothes before pulling the covers back and placing him in the bed. She covers him loosely, casts a small cooling spell- her Dragon always ran so warm- and placed his plushies near him. The dragon on the right, fox on the left, and the wolf was cradled in Draco’s arms in the middle. 

She goes to leave, trusting that Iris will keep watch over Draco while she waits for Lucius to come home, when a small hand latches onto her dress sleeve. Looking down she expects to see Draco’s tired grey eyes peering up at her, instead her child eyes are a mix of grey and indigo that swirls and weaves itself into his eyes. Narcissa’s breath catches in her throat at the display of the Dreaming bleeding through. She coos at him gently, smoothing his bangs back from his forehead, and scoots him over, readying a spot for her to Dream beside him. She can feel Iris disappearing back into the Dreaming , waiting to meet them.

She breathes slowly, letting her body relax bit by bit, the pull of the Dreaming and Draco is comforting and familiar. It's reassuring and warm, it is everything that she wants to be for Draco. It is enough to coax her to sleep.

Draco’s dreamscape has not changed much in the last two years, there are splashes of her own lilac and a splash or two of an olive green that has to belong to Dobby. Iris is waiting in the center of his endless mindscape, her tail leaving a lilac trail that connects back to Narcissa’s own dreamscape. She smiles at Iris’s waiting form, and meets her in the middle of Draco’s mind. He is nowhere to be found, so she settles beside Iris, laying her chin on top of the foxes head. They sit in comfortable silence, waiting to see why Draco called to them. Not that they minded. They would come to him at any time, though it was worrying that he allowed the Dreaming to consume his eyes.

They breathe in sync, one heart and soul in two bodies. It is peaceful in Draco’s mind. It is only when his mindscape ripples that they both tense. Someone else has entered Draco’s mind. Both Iris and Narcissa stiffen, the only other person that they knew who could enter Dreamscapes would be Druella, Narcissa’s mother but she had died during Narcissa’s time at Hogwarts. 

They tense ready to deal with whatever threat has somehow intruded into Draco’s mind, a growl forming in the back of Iris’s throat. Instead of an intruder, it is Draco. His expression is one of pure delight, but what really draws their attention is not the expression on his face, but rather what is behind him. 

A silvery wolf walks behind Draco, his eyes wise and his head held high. He is larger than both Draco and Iris. His fur is whiter than Iris’s own pure silver but it compliments the white-blonde of Draco’s hair well. 

Narcissa can hardly believe her eyes, the wolf is attached to Draco’s side, it’s nose brushing against Draco’s cheek every so often as they walk towards Narcissa and Iris. It’s a different meeting from her own with Iris, but by the time she got to meet Iris, the fox had been waiting for years for her side of the bond to unlock. 

“Hello, Little Dragon. It seems you made a new friend.” 

The smile on Draco’s face was enough to satisfy her for a hundred years, truly. And as the pair settle in front of Iris and Narcissa, she is eager to learn the name of Draco’s chosen, but she is patient enough to give Draco time to introduce his new companion.

Iris on the other hand, has no such patience. “ _ Hello, I am Iris, and this is Narcissa. The kit’s mother.”  _ She pauses for a moment, moving to curl around Narcissa. “ _ Who are you?” _

Narcissa can only scowl at her fox, although neither Draco or the wolf seem to mind impatience much. In fact, the wolf looks like he is about to laugh which in turn makes Draco’s eyes spark with more joy. And, well, Narcissa supposes she can ignore it this time. 

The wolf gives at them, “ _ I am Orion, it is a pleasure to meet my pups pack.” _

“The pleasure is ours, I’m sure, Orion. I was unaware that we would meet you so soon, however, from what my mother told me-

“ _ -which wasn’t much” _

“-others don’t typically meet the Dreamers companion until they’ve gotten used to each other’s presence for at least a week. Draco hasn’t spent a Dreaming alone since his birth.” Narcissa continued one, ignoring Iris’s interruption.

Orion hums with a nod, “ _ Typically, yes. But, my pup was very excited to introduce us so I relented.” _

Narcissa and Iris both nod at this, Draco enjoyed showing them progress with everything, it should be no surprise that he would want to share his newest companion as soon as possible. 

She moves to talk with Orion more, curious if he was at all like Iris, who had followed Narcissa’s soul since the Dreamers came about. But just as she is about to ask, a call rings through the mindscape.

_ Narcissa! Narcissa! _

It is Lucius’ voice, time within the Dreaming always moved differently than in the waking world, and she had completely forgotten about the fact that Lucius was not home once she saw the indigo overtake her son’s grey eyes. 

“It seems,” she sighs, “that I am being called away. Iris? Are you staying here or leaving with me?”

Iris huffs, moving to nuzzle at Draco. This earns her a small pout from the wolf beside him that causes both ladies to laugh. “ _ I’ll come with you, my flower. Should give the new bonded time to get more acquainted, after all.” _

It is with a final laugh that they leave Draco’s mindscape, waking in his bed, with Narcissa’s arm curled around her son. It brings a smile to her face, and she places one last kiss on his forehead before she leaves to go and greet his father. 

She finds him in the study, the very place he promised to be when they got home and failed to be. Still, she smiles at him because at least he is home now, and that is all that matters. His back is turned to her, the fire raging yet again in study thanks to the magic of the house elves. She knocks on the door frame, before striding into the room with all of the grace that comes from being a Malfoy.

“Lucius, welcome home.”

He whirls around to look at her, his eyes are wild and harsh and it makes her stop before reaching him.

His voice is cold and clipped when he finally speaks to her, “Where were you?”

“What do you mean, darling? I was in Paris with Draco, you know this.”

“No, I know you  _ went _ there and returned home. Your bags are still on the table, and I come home from being  _ humiliated _ , calling for my wife and I cannot find her. So,” his eyes sharpen and pin her in place. Iris hisses in her mind. “Where were you?”

She does not falter, she has done nothing wrong and she will  _ not _ let Lucius make her the villain for his own actions. “I was with  _ our _ child. Draco and I were worried sick when we came home and could not find you so we walked around and looked for you, we asked the house elves and all they knew was that you were taken by Aurors. So I did what I could and distracted Draco. He played and then fell asleep, I must have fallen asleep with him.”

He sneers at her, and for a second she is so startled that she cannot help but stare at him. “You spoil that child too much. He’ll never grow up to be a proper heir if you keep coddling him.”

“I-what?” For a moment she is at a loss for words, “He is my son, he is  _ your _ son and he is  _ a child _ . There is no coddling, I’m simply letting him be a child!”

“Stop, you’re making him  _ weak.  _ How is he supposed to honor the Malfoy name when all he does is follow after you like a duckling?”

She opens her mouth to retort but he does not allow her to get a word in edgewise.

“How is  _ he  _ supposed to do what I could not and bring the Malfoy name honor when our Lord arrives again.”

“ _ What _ ?” Narcissa’s force is harsh, mixed together with Iris’s in their anger, they can only hope that Lucius does not notice it. “Our son is not going to join the Dark Lord! The Dark Lord is dead! The war is over, Lucius, the light won.”

“Of course he’s going to join the Dark Lord, if you hadn’t been pregnant I would have been at my Master’s side! We would have won!”

“We wanted a family!”

“I wanted power!”

The room is quiet, nothing but the sound of their labored breaths and occasionally cracking of fire fills the room. 

Suddenly Lucius’ face changes, it smooths out and softens. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Forgive me, my flower. The Aurors put me through a lot today and it must have grated on my nerves more than I had thought. I did not mean any of this.”

He crosses the room and wraps her in a hug, cooing at her until she returns it.

“I promise you, I didn't mean it. Draco and you are all I ever wanted. All I ever could want.”

She wants badly to believe him, but all she can hear is the sound of her heart beating and Iris reminding her that  _ your mate is a weasel. _

She buries her head in his neck and hopes that he is true to his promise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos feed my poor writing soul.
> 
> See you guys again soon!


	4. Is the greatest treasue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She leaves him in the study, and can feel his eyes boring into her back. She pays him no mind, keeps the promise that he made to her deep within her, but does not turn to go to their room. Instead, she continues straight and heads back to Draco’s side. She needs to make sure that he was still in his bed, still safe. She didn’t want to think about it, but the crazed look in Lucius’s eyes unsettled her, she doesn’t want to believe that he would ever do anything to harm Draco. Draco is just a child after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos and for reading this.  
> This chapter gets a little heavy near the end so please be careful when reading this and watch the tags, they'll change as I write.   
> Child abuse and torture are at the end of the chapter and will be a prevalent in the next chapter as well.  
> As always this is unbeta'd so let me know if there are any mistakes.

She leaves him in the study, and can feel his eyes boring into her back. She pays him no mind, keeps the promise that he made to her deep within her, but does not turn to go to their room. Instead, she continues straight and heads back to Draco’s side. She needs to make sure that he was still in his bed, still safe. She didn’t want to think about it, but the crazed look in Lucius’s eyes unsettled her, she doesn’t want to believe that he would ever do anything to harm Draco. Draco is just a child after all. 

_ ‘Has that ever stopped them before, though?’ _

She knows that Iris is talking about the Mudblood - _ muggle-born- _ children that the Dark Side had aimed to eradicate. She wonders how they felt when faced with the possibility of extinction because of people who didn’t understand them, did they feel like the Witches and Wizards that died at Salem? Did the actions of the past make their scorn okay? Would the Wizarding World look down on her Draco because of his father’s actions the same way pure-bloods do to half-bloods and muggle-borns? The thought of Draco being shunned hurts her, but it is the thought of an older Draco, his eyes blank and face pale in Azkaban or worse yet dead in a battle that has already been lost that makes her pick up her pace. She needs to see her son, make sure he is the child that he was only moments ago. 

She opens the door slowly, lest she wake him. The sigh of relief that is torn from her chest is no surprise. He is at peace, the Dreaming claiming him still. She does not join him, despite her wishes to do so, he is in the middle of bonding with his own and she will not intrude. That does not stop her from smoothing the hair that has fallen on his face back, she presses kisses to his forehead, his cheeks and each of his eyelids, barely there so that he does not stir but firm enough to confirm to her that he is real beneath her lips. 

Narcissa watches him for a few moments, watches the way his chest falls and rises with his deep breaths, watches how the moonlight reflects on his face. She wants to keep him like this forever, keep him young and innocent. Wants to keep his kindness, pure and untainted by the darkness that clings to the Malfoy name. That clings to the Black name as well. 

‘ _ Not all Blacks, I cannot say the same for Malfoys but we know of two Blacks that did not follow the Dark history that plagues the old blood.” _

‘One of them is in Azkaban, Iris. He may not have the Dark Mark but he murdered his best friends and allowed the Dark Lord into their home.’

‘ _ Even so, that leaves one other Black.’ _

‘I can’t…. Iris, it’s been so long since I’ve seen Andy. I  _ can’t. _ ’

‘ _ You don’t have to see her, just…. Teach your son of her, of how she defied what was expected of her.’ _

‘And what? Teach him that being your own person will lead to disownment and abandonment by your family?’

‘ _ No, teach him that it is good to have a belief even if others oppose you, teach him how she went after her happiness despite the consequences, teach him that kindness and love are more important than blood and that family is more than just a name that strangers bear in common with you.’ _

_ ‘ _ What if that is not enough?’

‘ _ It might not be, but it is more than nothing, more than he would have gotten otherwise. He will make his own choices regardless of what he is taught, but it is important to teach him that he does not have to follow the beliefs of others blindly. He is more than that. He is one of the Dreamers after all.’ _

“I will do everything that I can to keep you safe, my dragon, my most precious star in the sky.”

‘ _ We both will.’ _

Narcissa blinks back tears- when had they formed?- and forces herself to pull away from her son. She is not going back to hers and Lusicus room, instead she calls for a cup of tea to be brought up to the attic. She has pictures to find. 

She had spent much of her recent free time in the attic, bringing Draco with her when Lucius went to work, or having Dobby watch him when Lucius was home. When she was not in the attic, she was pleased to note that Lucius had kept his word. Since their small fight a month ago, Lucius had spent every free moment that he could with her and Draco. It started out small, coming home early with flowers for her and books for Draco, or going in late because he wanted to have breakfast with them. Soon he was telling them that he could no longer go in all hours of the day, that he wanted to be home with Draco to put him to bed and take some of the burden off her. To create the connection that she had been adamant to have with her child. That one alway created the argument of the house elves doing more, having them raise Draco instead, but that was the one area that Narcissa had refused to back down on. She would not make her child feel like a burden the same way her mother did to her, she would show him all the love and affection that she could. It had taken over two years but they were finally becoming the family that Narcissa desperately wanted them to be. 

It is a cool summer day and Narcissa has gone through the entirety of the attic looking for pictures of Andromeda with no luck. She has little over a week before it is Draco’s third birthday, and while this is a present that she cannot share with Lucius, she believes that it will be the most important one she gives him as well. There is an old Black estate in Spain, a rarely used vacation spot that her mother used for storage after her father's death. If any mention of Andromeda still exists within Black property it would be there.

There is a problem of what to do with Draco, she does not want to spoil the surprise before his birthday, nor does she want to subject him to the Darkness that clings to the old house. She could have the house elves watch him, but aside from Dobby he is not comfortable with any of the others. A side effect of his shy personality. Ideally, Dobby would be able to keep an eye on him while she was gone, but she needs him to come with her to help her search and she cannot bring another elf in case they tell Lucius of what she was doing.

She  _ could _ ask Lucius, he had been attentive of Draco lately, never raising his voice to him. He had been soothing and kind, the kind of father that her little star deserved. She could trust him to watch their child, right?

Immediately Iris hisses a no, throws up the conversation from the study and his anger. Reminds her of how he snarled and claimed that power and war were more important than Draco. But, he had been true to his promise thus far. And Narcissa, she wanted to believe him. Ignoring Iris’s screaming in her mind, she leaves the attic one last time to find her husband. 

Draco did not want to go to the attic with her today, instead he had requested to stay in the library. A few toys from the nursery were summoned along with Dobby who kept watch over him while she was occupied in the attic. Lucius probably went to check up on Draco on occasions, thinking he was alone in the library, so it was likely that he was there now. 

She wonders as she walks towards the library, how Draco’s face will light up on his birthday. What presents will he like more? She knows that Severus had planned to drop by and give Draco a child’s cauldron and a few of the nonlethal potion ingredients. She had a book on plants that she planned to gift him, along with a book on dragons - and one on wolves but that would be another secret gift for just them. She had convinced Lucius to get a children’s book on constellations. He had also ordered some robes and clothing that showed the Malfoy wealth.

There is no sound when she reaches the library, its door firmly shut. Quietly, she pushes the door open and peers in. What she finds warms her heart. Lucius and Draco are on a plush chair together, Draco is cuddled to Lucius' chest, both of them are fast asleep. Draco’s toys have been removed from the library, likely Dobby’s doing, a blanket covers them, one of the soft ones that she had bought right after Draco’s birth when he would whine when she tried to cover him in the more traditional blankets. 

She is careful not to wake Draco as she coaxes Lucius back from slumber. His grey eyes open and for a moment, the sharp and angry angles are replaced with softer edges, laugh lines at the edge of the mouth, the eyes are softer and more of an almond shape than Lucius own hooded ones. An older Draco is blinking blearily up at her instead of her husband. Her smile softens and her heart swells. That is what she wants for her child, to live in a world where it is laughter that mares his face and not a frown. Andromeda is a piece to ensure that Draco can be happy. 

“‘Cissa? W’at’s wrong?” Lucius’ voice is rough with sleep, but nothing endears her more to him than the fact that he did not automatically put his walls back up. She had caught him vulnerable, and he trusted her.

“Nothing is wrong, darling.”

Both of them pause as Draco twists in Lucius’ arms, one of his small arms flails momentarily and lands on the side of Lucius’ face.

Narcissa and Lucius share a look of amusement at their son's antics. Silence reigns, Lucius on the edge of falling back asleep, and Narcissa affirming that Lucius will take good care of Draco in her absence. 

“I have to leave for a few days.”

Lucius’ eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone from them.

“Is everything okay?”

Narcissa smiles to reassure him, “everything is fine. There is just some business I need to take care of out of the country. Normally I would take Draco with me, but I don’t feel comfortable doing so.” She watches as his eyes narrow and he gives her a small nod. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind taking a few days off to watch him?” It comes out more of a question than she would have liked, but she can’t take it back now.

Lucius’ eyes flashes between her and Draco before a smile curls on his lips. It is soft and kind and yet something about it disturbs her. She pushes those feelings away and waits for his answer.

“Of course, I’ll watch him. There is  _ nothing  _ I would rather do. When do you plan to leave? When will you be back?”

The unease comes again momentarily and this time it is Iris who holds it close to her, ensuring that Narcissa can not simply dismiss it but does not let her consume her either. 

“I’ll leave tomorrow moring, I should be back the day before Draco’s birthday.”

Lucius’ smile widens as he practically purrs, “Perfect.”

“Perfect?”

He blinks, taken aback as though he had not meant to say that out loud. “Of course! That means you’ll be back to spend our baby’s boy special day with him!”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.”

“Me neither.”

A soft sound draws their eyes back to Draco, who has begin stirring again. His soft grey eyes open, blinking once, twice before opening and settling on his mother. Tiredness is still fresh in his face as he reaches toward her. 

“Oh, little star, are you tired? Did you play a lot with your Father?” Narcissa coos at him.

Draco answers by burying his face into her neck. Narcissa can feel the way that Iris wants to rise and check on him. She can feel the need that Iris has to make sure that their kit is safe and unharmed but she has to placate her. 

‘You have to wait until we are in his room, Iris.’

‘ _ What if he is hurt now.’ _

‘He’s not, I would be able to tell. I would tell you.’

‘ _ I know, I just don’t trust the weasel.’ _

‘Iris.’

‘ _ Narcissa.’ _

Narcissa could not stop the sigh that left her, and could only smile at the look that Lucius sent her. 

“Time for bed, little dragon.”

She waits a moment for a response, but when none comes she glances down at her child. His head is resting on her shoulders, his forehead pressed against the side of her throat. His eyes are closed and his face is peaceful. He has already fallen back asleep.

Narcissa can barely contain her huff of amusement, and it’s clear that Lucius feels the same way by the glint in his eyes.

She sends another smile to Lucius before turning to leave the library. She will not be able to join Draco in the Dreaming tonight, she will leave Iris with him, of course, but she needs to pack.

The walk to Draco’s room is a short one, the weight of him in her arms is comforting even if he shifts restlessly in her arms. His door is already open when she arrives, making her snort. The Manor has a favorite Malfoy it seems. She doesn’t blame it, she does too. She pulls back the covers on his bed with a swish of her wand and lays him in the bed. She casts a small cushioning charm, the bed doesn’t really need it already full and plush but she likes doing it nonetheless, before covering him with a thin but soft blanket and casting the nightly cooling-charm. She presses a soft kiss to forehead, lingers as Iris rises from her to curl beside him and rest her head on his chest. The rise and fall soothing to both of them. 

“Iris,” she waits until the fox shifts from watching Draco sleep to looking at her. “Stay with him tonight?”

“ _ You don’t even need to ask.” _

Narcissa nods, a smile playing on her face. Gratitude sings between their mutual bond, love and affection in subtle notes pass through as well. 

She pulls away and leaves the room, there is still much to do.

Morning comes far too soon in her opinion, her bags are packed and Dobby has already left the Manor for the Black Chateau in Spain, taking her bags with him. She leaves her and Lucius’ bed, his side is already cool and made up again. She fixes her side as well, anything to have a few more moments in this home. It only takes a second to make the bed look pristine, and she leaves their room after getting dressed.

Narcissa arrives at the dining room, Lucius is already there along with Draco. Whereas Luicus is dressed in day clothes, Draco is still in the night clothes he slept in. She presses a kiss to Lucius cheek before smoothing Draco’s face in kisses.

“Leaving so soon?” It is Lucius’ voice that halts her assault.

“Maman going bye-bye?”

“Just for a few days, little star, Maman will be home before you know it.”

“I’’ go too?”

“No, I’m sorry, you’ll be staying with your Father while I’m gone. You’ll be a good boy for him, won't you?”

“Mhm! I'm a good boy, Maman!”

“I know you are!” She nuzzled him, peppering his face with kisses again.

“Will you be staying for breakfast?”

Narcissa shook her head, “No, I really should leave now. The sooner I leave the sooner I can get back.”

“Be safe.”

“Of course.”

Lucius looks up from the paper, a small smile playing on his face. “I love you.”

She flushes softly, “I love you too.”

“Love you, Maman! Love you.”

Narcissa coos at Draco, “and I love you! More than anything else in the world.” 

He squeals as she attacks him with kisses one last time, whining softly when she finally pulls away. “Maman go now?”

“Yes.”

“Bye-bye, Maman.”

“Goodbye my star.”

She turns to Lucius who has been watching them with an unreadable expression on his face. “Goodbye, Lucius, I’ll be home soon.”

“Goodbye, return to us safely.”

She leaves through the Floo, trusting her husband to keep Draco safe. It was a mistake she would neve make again.

Lucius hears the distinct fwsh of the Floo, but he does not move. He wants and watches as his greatest mistake eats the food that his money has bought, wearing silk and finery that he had no right to wear. He glares at the white-blonde on his hair, so alike his own, and the grey of their eyes alike. A carbon copy at first glance, but the child is weak. The reason the War was lost is sitting in front of him like a King instead of the cretin that he was.

Draco hums to himself as he eats, excited to spend more time with his Papa, after all they had such a fun day yesterday! Today should be fun as well. He swings his legs in time with his hums, not noticing the annoyance that spreads across Lucius’ face.

The humming and swinging goes on as Draco finishes his plate and looks up expectantly to his father. Lucius forces smiles, his chair screeching across the floor and he moves to get up. Draco smiles back at his father and lifts his arms up as he goes to lift him up.

Draco squeals when Lucius brings him into his arms, pinching his cheeks with his nails. Draco winces at the pain that soars through his now reddened cheeks, tears gathering in his eyes as he looks up to his father. Lucius is smiling down at him, the smile wide and cruel, his grey eyes harden and cold like steel.

“Papa?”

Lucius' smiling facade leaves him at that one word, his smile falling from his face only to be replaced by a sneer. He pinches Draco’s cheeks again, his nails digging into the chubby cheeks. He presses deeper when Draco tries to pull away, his nails leaving crescent moon marks on the cheeks that dribble with him. 

Draco eyes spill with tears as he twists in his father's hold, “Papa! Hurts, it hurts.”

Lucius growls deep in his throat, moving from pinching his cheeks to pressing his fingernails into the soft skin beneath his eye. “I. Am. Not. Your. Father.” Each word is accented but a deeper press of his nails, until the pressure draws blood like the marks on his cheeks. Draco’s tears spill over his fingers, mixing together with the blood that mares his cheeks and something in Lucius snaps as this mistakes filth taints his porcelain skin. 

How dare he.

How  _ dare _ this disgusting, waste mare his perfect skin. A drop of blood flows down his arm and falls over his sacred mark, without a conscious thought Lucius rips his nails from Draco’s face. For a moment, relief is palpable on Draco's face, even as his tears continue to fall and the pearls of his blood paint his cheeks pink. 

The slap echoes through the kitchen, resounding again when Draco chokes back a sob. Lucius’s hand is burning, the child's blood and the force of the hit painting his hand. He does it again, and again, until blood is flowing from the mistakes mouth as well. His hold tightens as it tries to get away from him, the creature's tears flowing freely.

He ignores the creature's struggles, even as the wards burn through his veins, and takes them down a path that has not been used in nearly 4 years. The hallway is cold and dark, the scent of new and old blood meld together, but it does not deter him. He relishes in the scent, uses it as proof that what he is doing is correct. Creatures like this filth do not deserve to live in the world of the pure. This is the perfect place to teach the lessers their place in this world. 

The dungeon smells of death and decay, blood stains litter the floor and each section is a small room. There might be a body down here from the smell, but Lucius doesn’t remember nor care enough to check. The only penance for filth is death. The creature in his arms is small, barely bigger than a traitorous house elf, luckily for him the deepest room has the perfect chains for such a small creature. A muzzle too, small creatures were often the most dangerous after all. 

The sound of the iron bar door opening drowns at the creatures hiccuping sobs, the chains lay innocently on the floor, crusted red from past use. He drops the creature onto the floor, uncaring of how rough his actions are. He moves one hand down to wrap loosely around the creatures neck, a reminder of how easily he could end it all for them while the other latches the chains around the small creatures wrists. 

He drops his hand and moves back, watching as the creature struggles against the hold of the chains. A frown pulls at his lips, that simply won’t do. He retrieves his wand, watching in satisfaction as the creature's eyes go wide and it shakes with fear. Good. He casts a small transfiguration spell on the chains, gone are the smooth inner surfaces replaced with spikes that dig into the creature’s wrist with every move he makes.

Lucius watches as the spikes dig into his skin, licking his lips and raising his wand again. Time to have some fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this!  
> If you have any questions, let me know and I'll do my best to reply unless it'll be a big spoiler of course.  
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. Hope to see you soon!


	5. But to harm a Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius cannot help the frown that pulls at his lips. The creature before him is withering on the ground again, the pain imaginable and all consuming. It would be an image of pure perfection if it weren't for one tiny issue, the vermin is no longer screaming. One of the sweetest sounds he has ever heard, one that he craves and this creature is denying him it. Its mouth is wide open like it is trying the scream but no sounds come out even as Lucius watches the muscles tremble there is none of that alluring sound. What a disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone! I hope that you all have had a good week and that you are all enjoying this story.
> 
> Trigger warning for abuse, torture, and manipulation. Please be safe when reading, nothing I write is worth harming yourself.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd, so if there are any mistakes just let me know.

The first spell is a simple  _ Accio _ , Lucius’ cane flying through the air and into his waiting hand. Typically he would have kept his wand in the cane, but he didn’t want Narcissa questioning why he was walking with his cane when he mostly used it for appearances. 

The smooth black cane curls into the head of a snake with its fangs bared, waiting for it’s next prey. Lucius swings the cane down, reveling in the feeling of the wind that catches it, and does it again and notes with satisfaction that the creature has started to shake in fear. Small whimpers are coming from the creature’s mouth, it’s small body curling up, trying to get away from Lucius. The chains dug deeper into its wrist as a result, the scent of the fresh blood soothing Lucius. He allowed a red haze to fall over his mind, he loved the dungeons for this very reason. He could finally be himself, the true self that his Master praised, not the lowly and docile man he was forced to play. He could be free in these walls, in the blood that he drained from these wretched creatures. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Lucius closed his eyes, letting the soft tapping of his cane and the scent of blood wash over him. He waits for a moment, for the whimpering to quiet down, before he steps towards the creature. He moves slowly and purposely, schooling his features into that of a caring individual, the same face he gave those pathetic Aurors and the Minister. 

When he opens his eyes again, he is in front of the trembling creature and his heart swells, he did this. But it’s not enough, despite the trembling, the creature is still looking up at him as though he is worthy. Lucius lets a smile spread across his lips, delighting in the terrified squeak that comes from the vile being before him, and finally he raises his cane. The creature startles, and Lucius sees it, the perfect moment to swing.

A resounding crack rings through the dungeons as the cane connects with the creature's side, the teeth of the snake digging past the shirt of the creature and burying into the flesh beneath it. The fangs tear at the flesh, creating long jagged lines when Lucius rips them out of the side. The creature wails in pain, scrambling to get away from Lucius despite the chains and its slightly labored breaths.

Lucius could listen to it scream all day. The voice is not as low as his own, rather high actually, but pleasant, terror flows beautifully on it, and the small amount of pain that he inclined causes it to hitch just slightly. He adores it. It is his third favorite sound. The second, the laughter of his wife. The first is, of course, his Master saying his name. 

Nothing has ever sounded as beautiful to him as that.

Lucius moves the cane to his other hand. He was sure that he at least cracked one of the creature’s ribs on its right side, how would it wail if the pain assaulted it from both sides? Would it scream? Sob? Or would it be another disappointment? Would it wither and beg for more like the last one before it? There has been no satisfaction in that death, it was no fun when they craved the pain. 

No, crying and screaming in pain was far more beautiful than begging for more. Begging for it to stop on the other hand, that, that would be amazing. Could the creature’s breath hitch even more? He wanted no  _ needed _ to find out. 

Swinging down again, harder this time, earned him another satisfying crack. The creature's eyes were wide and glassy already, the scream that tore from its throat was enchanting, warbling at the end as tears flowed freely from its eyes. Again, Lucius swung, uncaring of where the blow would land this time only wanting to hear more the scream. 

It hits the same spot, the fangs sinking even deeper. He does not pull it away this time, instead he digs that snake deeper into the creature's flesh, watches the fangs be bruised into the hilt and  _ twists.  _ The fangs tear out the flesh, leaving a trail of blood that flows and pools next to the creature’s body. 

Draco screams, his throat already feeling raw from the force of his voice. The spikes dig deeper into his wrist as his body involuntarily flinches back from the pain. He gags, bile rising in his throat as the pain in both of his sides flare, another hit connecting with his ribs. 

He can feel Orion trying to connect to him through their bond, can feel his worry and his anger but he cannot focus on it. All he can think is that it  _ hurt _ s _ ithurtsithurts _ he wants it to stop. 

“Papa!” He calls without thinking, this man in front of him is not his real father, Lucius must be in the house somewhere looking for Draco. He has to be.

The man’s face shifts, the serene expression slips off his face and is replaced with a look of repulsion. His lips from a snarl instead of the smile that he gave Draco yesterday, and his eyes have gone cruel and cold opposed to the distant look that they have had throughout this endeavor. 

The cool head of the cane rests under Draco’s chin, and Lucius forces it up, making Draco look him in the eyes. The teeth of the snake hover over Draco’s neck, it would be so easy to push forward. Just turn the snake slightly and rip out the creatures jugular. But there would be no fun in that, such a  _ muggle _ way to die after all. It would all be over too quickly. 

Lucius licks his lips, pulling the cane away from the creature’s neck and placing it gently on the ground. Instead of the cane, he withdraws his wand, he notes with disappointment that the creature has not paid any attention to his movements, lost inside its own head. That simply will not do.

He wants them to scream and  _ break.  _ And sometimes to watch something shatter, you must fix them first. He coos at the creature below him, although they don’t seem to hear him, and casts a small  _ Episkey _ , not enough to help the creature's broken bones, but just enough to stitch the skin back together. Lucius is sad to watch his marks leave, sadder to know that no more blood would fill the air, but he supposes it’s alright. After all, what he has planned is much better. 

Lucius holds his wand limply by his side, and waits for the creature to notice the disappearance of his skin pulling. He doesn’t want to wait, wants to rip the creature in front of him into pieces, but he doesn't know when he’ll get another chance to play like this and it's been so long since the last time he wants to make sure that it lasts. 

It is Orion that draws Draco’s attention to the fact that the monster in front of his has stopped moving. He is dizzy with pain, but Orion gently bites at their connection and suddenly it is enough to bring him back. He thanks Orion as much as he can right now, sends as much gratitude as he can through their bonds and tries to focus on Orion within his mind and not the shooting pain of his ribs or the blood that is flowing-

The blood has stopped flowing, Lucius can tell the moment the creature realizes it, his sweet gasp fills Lucius’ ears, the creature's hands scramble to tentatively touch his sides.

Draco gasps in pain, the wounds have closed but it still hurts, hurts to breathe, hurts to move, but the bleeding is gone, someone helped him.  _ Theystopedittheystopit _ . But the only person in here with him is Lucius, who caused him the harm in the first place so why?

“P-papa?” Draco can taste copper on his tongue and fights to swallow it down. 

A coo is the resounding answer and gone is the man who broke his ribs, replaced with Father that he laughed and played with. His father takes a step towards him and despite the growl and rage from Orion, Draco lifts his arms the best that he can towards Lucius.

Lucius smiles as the creature reaches towards him, leans into the creature's space and lets it wrap its arms around him the best that the disgusting thing can. He soothes the creature’s hair back, coos to distract it from the movement of his hands. The moment he feels the creature relax in his grip does he move on. 

His wand hovers the creature’s neck.

“Papa?” The creature calls out to him, calling him that blasted name yet again.

“Crucio.”

Draco’s head falls back, colliding with the concrete below him. He thinks he may be screaming, knows that his mouth is open and can feel his throat convulsing, but he can’t hear it. All he can focus on is the overwhelming sound of his blood is his vien, the beating of his heart, and the  _ pain _ that is everywhere at once. It burns at his insides, licking at every nuke and cranny that his body possesses, searing them all. 

He knows nothing outside of the pain that consumes him, drowning him in wave after wave of its excruciating heat. Does not notice Orion wailing in his mind, or his own body flailing in retaliation. There is nothing but pain. No words, no thoughts. 

Lucius cannot contain his glee, the vermin before him withers beautifully. It’s face contorts, the glassy grey eyes rolling madly within its head. He notices out of the corner of his eye, the way the creature’s hands have stiffened and spread. Carefully, he pulls away from the body beneath him, making sure to keep his hatred, to keep the Curse continuing. Without a thought, he crushes one of the pale hands beneath his boot, grounds it into the ground and relishes in the cracks that come from the action. The creature probably cannot even feel this compared to the pain that courses through its body, it is a pity, as a small shard breaks through the skin on the creatures hand

All of this is wonderful, but his favorite image is the creature with its head thrown back, mouth wide open and the  _ screams _ that tear through its throat. Oh, those screams are a thing of Magic themselves. Lost in pain the creature knows nothing of pitch or tone, nothing of the way the spikes have dug so far into one wrist for a single spike to peek through dyed a vibrant red. It knows nothing but the pain and terror that consumes it, raises its voice higher and higher, cracking and becoming more hoarse as the Curse continues.

What would that voice sound like screaming his name? Would it sound the same if his Master was the one casting the spell? 

He steps off the hand, and lowers his wand ending the Curse. He watches as the creature takes in deep breathes, an automatic response. No other will get to hear these screams, they belong solely to him, this terror, this pain is all  _ his _ .

‘ _ Draco! Draco! C’mon pup, answer me.’ _

Draco felt floaty, like he wasn’t in the Waking but not quite in the Dreaming either. In Between. It had been awhile since he hadn’t been able to choose a state, months before he met Orion at least.  _ Orion _ . Where was Orion? Why wasn’t he with him? Did he leave him with Papa? Was he bad? Yes. Yes, he had to be.

He was bad, that must be why Maman left him, that's why Orion wasn’t here. Papa was the only one left and he had to teach Draco to be good again. 

Without a conscious thought, Draco let a whine go through the bond. Bad, he was such a bad dragon, bad pup, abandoned and left to hurt. Had to be taught. Papa. Papa had to teach him and then they’d come back. They’d come back to Draco and he’d be so good for them.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Be good, good, I’m good, I’ll be good.’

Orion startled within his and Draco’s shared mindscape, when the whine flowed through their bond, followed by words that broke his heart. His pup, he was in so much pain and thought that he had been abandoned, left to a man that was more than happy to break him into pieces. And for what? From what both Narcissa and Iris had told him, the man that Lucius followed was a madman. He cared only for himself, and yet people still dedicated themselves to him and his cause. Iris had told him about the argument while Narcissa packed. He did not know enough about Lucius to cast judgement on the man, from what he had experienced within Draco, the man was kind even if he was previously blinded by his thirst for power.

But he was wrong, it was all a lie. Each smile and laughter was just to get everyone guard down, and they fell for it just like Lucius hoped that they would. Draco was paying the price for their- for  _ his _ \- mistakes. He could only hope that Draco would forgive him, and that this would be that last time failed him.

He could not do much as he was, his bond with Draco was still relatively new and Draco’s magical core had not matured or stabilized enough to the point where Orion could manifest without killing Draco. But, maybe he could bring him into the mindscape? Protect his mind from further harm, even if he could not protect the body. It wouldn’t be enough, but at least it would be something.

‘ _ Pup? Draco, c’mon, you’re stronger than this. Answer me.’ _

_ ‘ _ ....Orion?’

‘ _ Pup! Oh thank goodness.’ _

‘No, no, no, you can’t be here. I’m not good. Not good enough for you and Maman and Iris. Papa, though, papa will teach me.’

_ ‘Draco, pup, no, that’s not true.’ _

_ ‘ _ I’ll be so good, I promise. You, Iris, Maman, you’ll come back and I’ll be so good. You won’t leave again.’

‘ _ Pup, pup, I promise you’re already good. You’re better than I could have ever hoped for. Narcissa and Iris too, you are all we could have ever wanted, pup.’ _

‘Not true. Alone. All alone, only Papa and  _ pain _ so much pain.’

‘ _ I know, pup, I know. You were in so much pain but never alone. I am always here with you. Always. Even when you cannot reach me, I am with you.’ _

Orion waits, it feels like hours but in truth is probably only a few seconds longer than their small conversation. It is eternity for Orion who is about to call out to Draco again, consequences of overwhelming the pup be damned when he feels it.

It’s a barely there, feather light brush against their connection. It is tentative in a way that Draco has never been with their bond, but Orion does not fret. He lets Draco explore their bond again as he did when they first connected. Then he was brash, full of excitement at finally meeting his own half, and the general hyperness that came from being a child. He was still shy in his own way, constantly asking for permission in his exploration which Orion happily gave. Now though, it's nearly agonizing. To feel his other half, know that they work as well together now as they have since they joined all those centuries ago, but be met with distrust and fear. 

Orion has hated before, with all of the righteousness and anger that belongs that the animal he took his form from, has hated the parents of his other half. Has hated Narcissa when she was not Narcissa and he was not Orion. When Draco was named for war and blood instead of stars and night. And yet, Orion has never hated anyone the way he hates Lucius right now.

The next brush is frimer, he can feel the hand that curls around their bond now, can feel the phantom fingers that trail where they join. It is not the same tight grip that Draco used before, nor are the fingers moving as fast as they once did. Instead each movement of the fingers is slow and precise, as though Draco is trying to ingrain the feeling of the bond deeply into his memory.

He believes that Orion is going to leave again, that he is to be alone in this punishment that he has not deserved. Does not believe in Orion words of togetherness and always. 

He lets Draco take his time, even though it hurts him to know that his pup does not have enough trust in him to believe his words, he cannot fault Draco. One person who he trusted has already harmed him, what is stopping another? 

When Draco has reached their bond point, where Draco’s soul and Orion become one. Draco’s magic is different in this life than it has been before, unsurpring as his parent’s genetics were different as were his own. Draco’s magic is blue in contrast to Orion’s own red, where they meld creates the indigo of Draco’s mindscape. Unlike Narcissa whose own mindscape was a pastel red until she met with Iris in this life, Draco’s mind has always been the color of their connection even when they could not reach each other. His pup had faith that he would find him early in this life, just as they promised in their last. Had believed in their bond so much that it affected his subconscious long before Orion was able to find him again. Orion brushes against Draco’s tentative touches. He can feel when their bond sparks with fear and unease and does his best to send through care and love, overflowing and endless. 

Draco is in front of him then, his form hazy and wispy even in their shared mindscape. Orion knows that it was from the pain, but he cannot help the concern that pulses through the bond. The hazy form of Draco shifts, his hand suddenly more present than the rest of him. Orion does not hesitate, he pads over to Draco nudging the pale hand and subsequently the pale arm up and on top of his head. He had not been a fan of petting when he was unbound, never cared for strangers until he met the soul before him. He still does not like it with most people, but Draco has never been most people. He has always been so much more.

Draco’s hand twitches in his fur, sliding back slowly until it rests around Orion’s ear. It sits there for a moment, twitching again, but it is when Orion nudges him slightly that he begins to scratch Orion behind the ear. Slowly, his arm becomes less see through and Draco’s other hand joins in petting Orion, instead of scratch this one just gently shifts through his fur, musing the white-gold tufts.

They lose themselves in their own little world, sharing mutual comfort when it comes again. 

It is the same Curse as the last time. Crucio. Draco’s form shifts again, going from solid to see through in a moment. Orion cannot personally feel the pain that is coursing through his pup, not like Draco can, but he can feel the hurt through the bond, through the way their mindscape flickers and shrinks, closing in on him. Despite this he will not let Draco go. He cannot stop the hurt, but he can distract him from it.

One of Draco’s fingers is still solid, tangled in the fur around Orion’s muzzle, it is a simple move to get Draco to trail his finger higher while not allowing for the finger to ever lose contact. Grounding him at least a little bit. It is when the finger has risen to Orion’s snout that he puts the plan into action. Carefully so that he does not harm his pup, Orion nips at Draco’s finger. His form shifts again, completely gone before suddenly he is there. He is still more see through than Orion would like but he’s more solid than he was previously. 

_ ‘I told you, pup, you won’t ever go through that alone again.’ _

Orion nips at the waiting finger again, noting that it is a different finger than the last time. Orion huffs a laugh, when as soon as he is finished nipping one another appears for the same action. The nips aren’t enough to make his fingers bleed, Draco truly doesn’t need anymore pain, but it is a reminder of the fact that Orion is here, that they both are real. Once Draco becomes more solid and drops more firmly into the Dreaming, Orion will distract him with the softness of his fur or playful licks, but Draco isn’t ready for that quite yet.

Draco sinks to his knees in their shared mind as Orion nips at the last of his fingers on his right hand, this time it takes no coaxing from Orion for Draco to lift his other hand towards the wolf’s snout. As soon as Orion nips at the waiting pinky, Draco’s other hand curls around the back of the wolf’s head, sinking into the soft fur that waits there. There is a soft tug to his fur, it happens twice in quick session before the hand near his snout suddenly leaves his view. Orion can feel it join the other hand buried into his fur, he waits to see if Draco will tug again. It doesn't hurt, not really, it’s more tactical than anything for his pup. The feel of his fur coupled with the resistance of the tug and pull seems to be calming Draco from Lucius’ actions. It won’t be enough, his pup will need help once he is free but it’s better than hearing him scream. Orion takes the next step, Draco’s form is more solid than see through although there are still spots, the form still ripples on occasion, but it's enough for Orion to believe that his pup can handle more. He starts slowly, barely tilts his snout in the direction of Draco's head and nuzzles it.

The shudder that sweeps through Draco's body at Orion's gentle touch makes the wolf want to bare his teeth and go after Lucius, but he manages to calm himself. His anger will do nothing but harm Draco right now, his pup will find no peace in his rage and he refuses to be the one to harm Draco further. 

_ I'll protect you, pup.  _

Lucius cannot help the frown that pulls at his lips. The creature before him is withering on the ground again, the pain imaginable and all consuming. It would be an image of pure perfection if it weren't for one tiny issue, the vermin is no longer screaming. One of the sweetest sounds he has ever heard, one that he craves and this creature is denying him it. Its mouth is wide open like it is trying the scream but no sounds come out even as Lucius watches the muscles tremble there is none of that alluring sound. What a disappointment. 

Not even the added physical pain that comes from Lucius' actions have produced a sound. The snake's head on his cane has been dyed a vibrant red in his fury, and bruises form around the creature’s pale neck in the form of Lucius' hand. Even as he felt the throat constrict and close beneath the force of his hand, the creature refused to scream.

There were no whimpers even as tears flowed from the glassy grey eyes, the only noise the creature made was the retching as bile finally rose and left the cage of the creature's body. The smell of urine joined the fragrance of sickness and blood after Lucius cast the third Curse, but even as his hatred for the beast below him grew and with it the force of his Crucio, no screams blessed him.

That’s fine, if the creature beneath him wanted to withhold his screams then Lucius would simply have to force him into giving him what he desired. If constant pain would not work, he would let the creature relax again, lure him into a false sense of security and then ruin him,

He knew just the man to connect, either the creature would die by his hand, or he would wish for death for the rest of its ill-gotten life. Either way, Lucius would get to hear the creature’s screen one more time. 

The house is just like Narcissa remembered, a little more dusty perhaps, but still beautiful. It’s vastly different from the Manor, with large windows that take up entire walls and more open floor planning. The walls are white, as are the Manors’, but even as she passes through the wards she can feel the darkness of the house clinging to her. The wards at the Manor are in no way Light but they don’t have the same suffocating Darkness that this home does. 

At least Draco does not have to experience this, he is safe at home with Lucius.

Narcissa wastes no time, she does not unpack nor does she explore, there are no memories here that she is chasing for herself. All she wants to do is find a piece of Draco’s family and go back home to him.

“Iris, Dobby?”

It only takes a moment for both the house elf and fox to appear next to her. Dobby watches the silvery fox from the corner of his eyes but he does not question her.

“Mistress called for Dobby?’

“ _ Yes, my flower?” _

Narcissa smiled at them, their overlapping voices at odds with one another. What a trio they must make, a house elf, a spectral fox, and the Lady of the Malfoy name. 

“Shall we split up? Our search would go quicker, and the sooner we find the family album, the sooner we’re able to go home and see Draco.”

Dobby and Iris both light up at the mention of the youngest Malfoy, neither being happy that he was in the Manor without them. Iris still did not believe that Lucius should have been left alone with Draco, no matter how kind he had been acting lately whereas Dobby was unused to spending a lot of time away from Draco. He was always in the Manor with his young charge even if he wasn’t in the same room house elf magic allowed him to monitor him through the Manor wards. 

Dobby takes the basement disappearing with a distinct ‘pop’, Iris takes the study slipping through the walls with practiced ease, while Narcissa takes the attic. There is an old opening on the second story hidden behind a picture of one of Narcissa’s many great uncles, she has to send a burst of her magic signature into the corner of the portrait right where a snake that is curled and consuming itself is engraved. The snake’s eyes shine, recognizing the Black blood that flows through her veins. Steadily the snake enlarges, uncurling from itself and begins taking over the portrait itself. The cold eyes of her ancestor stare at her as the snake continues to grow and grow, wrapping around the frame of the portrait and consuming everything in its wake. With the frame gone, the snake turns on the painting itself, swallowing it like a beast possessed. The snake covered portrait drops to the ground, the eyes burn into her momentarily before they glaze over and harden back into wood, a silent see you soon. 

The hole behind the portrait stretches to accommodate Narcissa and she steps in without a thought. It had been decades since the last time she stood behind this portrait, the hole hadn’t needed to be that tall, although it had to stretch to fit her and her sisters. But then they went to Hogwarts and Bella stopped being that bright and happy child she was, turned into the cold and cruel woman that stood by the Dark Lord with a smile and glee in her laughter, Andromeda no longer pretended to believe in the traditional Black ideals, decided that true love was more important than family and while Bella had raged against her and promised to bring honor back to the Black name even if it meant killing their sister, Narcissa held her tongue. She could find no fault in her sister’s desire for love. If Lucius had been a muggle-born, would Narcissa have been brave enough to love him anyway? 

The last time that she was here, her family was still whole. It hurts to think of the different paths that life has taken them, but then she thinks of Iris, her other half who knows everything about her, all her rage and her hate, who has loved her for centuries and stood by her side even when she was not the same person that Iris originally bonded with. She thinks of Draco, her little star who is already  _ so _ bright that it’s like looking at the sun. He blinds her but she can’t live without him. He is brilliance and everything that she could have ever hoped for wrapped up in a smile and petal soft laughter. 

She does not think of Lucius.

The steps illuminate as the hole shuts behind her, various pathways light up, each calling her name just as they did when she was a child. This time she ignores them, ignores the memories that plague her mind, and walks to the very top of the stairs. The walls split as she walks, trying to entice her to venture off of her desired path, but she refuses.

At the very top of the stairs stands a lone door, it is plain compared to the rest of the estate, easy to overlook when compared to the rest, but it was exactly what Narcissa had been looking for. As she reached the top step, the door rippled and opened for her, light shining through. The door shut behind her, closing everyone else. Iris and Dobby would be able to find her, but unless they knew of this and had Black blood within them, she would be alone in this attic until she found the family album. 

The Manor rang with laughter as the face in the fire disappeared from view, his lips curling into a sinister smile, Lucius leaned back into his study chair. Just as he hoped Greyback had avoided the Aurors just as he had, after gaining that knowledge it was simple to call the beast up and demand that he come to the Manor at once. While Greyback was an untamed man who killed his prey far too quickly for Lucius’s liking, he was also the one that would rip a scream out of the disrespecting creature in his basement. The Cruciatus Curse inflected the victim with pain imaginable, Lucius knew this, but he also knew that the pain mostly went away once the caster had ended the spell. There would be lingering side effects, of course, spasms and phantom pains, but there was nothing quite like turning someone. That was if Greyback didn’t rip the creature’s throat out in his glee of having prey after so long. 

He has not been back down to the basement, his muscles are tense with desire. He wants to go back down, make the creature scream and bleed, but he cannot act rashly, cannot have the creature be aware and on guard. No, it must be absolutely relaxed, only then will he be able to hear the most beautiful scream of them all. 

He wonders if hunger and thirst has begun to claw at it yet? Can the creature even feel those anymore, or is its mind still muddled form the Curse? Has it even realized that Lucius has done it a favor and stopped the curse, or is it still experiencing the lingering pain for prolonged exposure.

Would the creature even be able to feel the werewolf’s bite? After all, there was no way it could compare to the pain of continuous Crucio, but the Curse didn’t attack the physical body, only caused the nerves to go into hyperdrive. Without the Curse already flaring at his senses the creature was guaranteed to wail. 

He had just finished making a cup of tea when he felt the wards ripple, he had to push down the giddiness that he feels at the new arrival. He does not hesitate, opens the door to Fenrir Greyback. The large man towers over Lucius, where Lucius is slim like the snake of his Hogwarts house, Greyback is a man made of broad shoulders and muscles, his grey hair is matted with old dirt and dried blood, and the whiskers on his face only add to his beastily appearance. It is when he smiles, teeth sharp, long, tainted red, that Lucius invites him in. He is careful not to touch the werewolf in front of him, there is nothing alluring about the scent of blood that clings to him, it is nothing at all like the scent that flows in the dungeon. His scent is putrid, the blood of the dungeons is like coming home. 

Fenrir bares his teeth at the Death Eater in front of him, the scent of fresh blood is thick in the Manor air, and Lucius’ hand is painted with it. Normally the man would have washed it off by now, but instead he seems to be very careful about not causing it to smear. Fenrir does not ask where his prey is, they both know the only place that business is done in the Manor is in the dungeons.

Lucius follows behind the larger man down into the dungeons, notes with satisfaction that the werewolf stops as soon as they reach the dungeon and moves to the side. The beast does not bow its head as it should when faced with its betters, and it makes Lucius’ skin crawl but he does not act on his urges. His Master saw use in the werewolf and he would use his services again when he rose.

He can hear the sharp intake of breath from the beast behind him once they arrive at the creature’s room. The smell of blood is strongest here, where the creature lies in a puddle of his own fluids. There is something ethereal about the sight, the creature has not moved since Lucius left the dungeons, that is not surprising considering the immense pain that has happened to the creature despite this Lucius feels disappointed. The creature barely looks at them when they walk in, its eyes are no longer hazy and its mouth is finally shut and yet it doesn’t twitch when they walk in no acknowledgment of its betters or the pain that is coming.

Fenrir can feel the moon rise even while he is in the dungeons, can feel her steady rise into the night sky and it makes him grin. While attacking in his human form is still fun thanks to his elongated teeth and long nails, there is nothing quite like attacking in his true form. He moves past Lucius, deeper into the room and where his prey is laying pliant for him. There are already wounds on his body, one of his hands had been crushed, bruises decorating him, what draws his attention are the cuts that play on his sides and cheeks, he can see faint scars peeking out from under the tattered clothing.

Without a thought, Greyback finds himself licking his lips, aching to sink his teeth into the pale skin of the prey before him. Lucius had told of him of the creature’s screams, and he had been desperate enough to come. Lying low and hunting animals during his shifts wasn’t right, they couldn’t scream, couldn’t plead at him to end them when he sunk his teeth into the shoulder, they couldn’t cry at the knowledge that they were a beast just like him. It wasn’t the same.

He can feel the pull to shift, the wolf howls in his mind. He does not tell Lucius to leave, the other man is grown and knows well the viciousness of Greyback’s attack, he will either leave himself or face his teeth.

He has long since stopped fighting against the shift instead relishing in the power that comes from it. He leans into it, gladly giving himself over to the wolf. He does not mind the pain that comes from his bones breaking and shifting to create his ideal form, relishes in the feeling of his fingers turning into more vicious claws, his teeth becoming sharper. He falls to all fours easily, shaking out his grey fur.

He pays no mind to the human behind him, a thrilling hunt for later and instead turns his attention to the bound prey before him. The creature has no means of fighting back, but interestingly enough it raises its head off the concrete. The creature meets the wolf blue eyes with his own eyes of molten silver for just a moment, before looking past him and falling on the human behind him. It makes the wolf hackles rise at the defiance.

The creature is basically saying that nothing Fenrir does can harm him.

How cute.

The concrete is cool under the wolf’s feet, the scratching of his nails draws the creatures eyes back to him. Greyback bares his teeth, a warning and a promise. For a moment he could have sworn that his prey’s eyes go from grey to indigo but it’s gone from one breath to the next. With a howl, he leaps onto his prey. There will be no struggle, no play. He digs his nails into the creature's chest, watches it blossom with beautiful red and drags them down. The creature’s mouth opens as its head collides with concrete, despite this there is no sound coming out of the mouth.

Fenrir can hear himself growl, his claws digging deeper into the flesh beneath him, but still the creature does not make a sound. He can feel Lucius’ annoyance radiating from the man behind him. Normally he would play more, scar his prey more, make them beg for him to just end it, but he does not trust the man behind to be patient. Instead of his normal actions, he presses one of his paws onto the throat underneath of him, feels the creature swallow and gasp, the defiant eyes locking with his again. Fenrir leans closely to the pale shoulder and snaps his teeth together, close enough to scare the body beneath him but not enough to actually pierce the skin. He watches out of the corner of his eye for a reaction, but the creature has closed its eyes, its jaw has snapped shut. With a final growl, Fenrir sinks his teeth into the junction where the creature’s shoulder and neck meets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this!  
> As always comments and kudos are much appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you all liked this! Hopefully I will be updating this, and my other stories, soon!
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appericated!


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